


Unexpected Journey

by ChelleLeigh1917



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, escort/client au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleLeigh1917/pseuds/ChelleLeigh1917
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Richard York, a wealthy businessman hires Anne Neville from Beauchamp Professional Services, it's a journey neither expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Escort services and private prositution are legal in the UK. So Anne is not breaking any laws here, and neither is Richard. 
> 
> Anne also uses a pseudonym wih her clients, they know her as Amy Lancaster.

Richard sipped his scotch and leaned back in the armchair, bone-tired. "You're right, Francis. I really needed a drink."

Sitting across from him, his best friend scoffed. "I don't know what's happening with you, but you practically bit Stanley's head off at the board meeting today."

"Well, Stanley's an idiot."

Francis smirked before adding, "Lord Stanley is a board member and moreover, he controls half the wind and solar energy sources in Great Britain, and he's an asset to York North. And you know it."

Richard muttered under his breath, a word that sounded suspiciously like wanker.

"And for once," Francis added, "Stanley actually had a decent suggestion. So it was bush league of you to react the way you did."

Richard sighed and pressed his fingers to his temple, feeling the first signs of a migraine. "I suppose you're right. I don't know what came over me."

"I think you've overdone it, Richard. For years, you've done nothing but work and think, and it's taking a toll. You need a break."

"You think I should go on holiday? Let off some steam?"

Francis inclined his head thoughtfully. "Maybe." He was a careful man, not inclined to speak unless he had something to say and wary of being wrong. He took a moment to assess Richard before he spoke. "Because I'm your closest friend, maybe even your only friend, I'm going to ask you something.

"How long has it been since you've had a shag?"

"What?"

"You know what I asked. And don't say it's none of my business. If you're fucked up in the head because you're not getting any, it won't help the company any, will it?"

Richard swore softly. "It is none of your business, but if you must know, it's been a while. Six months, maybe longer." It was actually more than a year, but it was an affront to his ego to admit such a thing.

"Well, that's your problem then."

Richard laughed. "Thank you for stating the obvious." He took another sip, and added with more seriousness, "it's not as if I don't want to, Francis. But it's hard to have a girlfriend when I travel so much, when I'm so busy."

The women he dated invariably tired of his long hours. He was never available to them and he could never commit to anything more than a couple of nice dinners here and there. Also, some women were only interested in him for his money, and while that was not a bad thing in itself and he could appreciate the pragmatism behind it, it was not the best recipe for a healthy relationship. Indeed, his only serious relationship had ended after nearly five years because his ex had been more interested in his bank balance than his bed. It had taken him years to recover from the disappointment.

Francis knew all this without being told, and because he was a good friend, he did not push too hard. Instead, he said experimentally, "there are other ways to find female company."

"Ha! I'm not going to single's night at the local, if that's what you mean. In fact, kill me if you ever see me there."

His friend laughed. "I'll keep that in mind, but I meant something else. A distant relative of mine runs a service that finds dates for lonely people." He pulled his wallet out of his jacket and withdrew a business card from it. "Here, have a look."

Richard peered at the card. It was a plain white card with only the words "Beauchamp Professional Services" and a phone number printed on it. "A dating service?"

Francis shuffled his feet and looked awkward for a moment. "Not exactly. It's an escort service."

"For fuck's sake, Francis. Do I look that desperate?"

"That's not the point. You need to meet a woman who will want to spend time with you, but with no strings attached. That's exactly what a place like Beauchamp's is for."

Richard frowned, flipping the card between his fingers. "Is this even legal?"

"Of course it's legal. They're escorts, not streetwalkers. Beauchamp's is very proper, high end, you know. That sort of thing."

Richard watched his friend through narrowed eyes. "How do you know so much about this anyway? Personal experience?"

Francis met his eyes evenly. "Now that you ask, yes. I would have blown my brains out after the divorce if it wasn't for Beauchamp's." He took a long draught of his drink, choosing his words carefully. "I needed to feel alive again, and having a pretty girl to spend time with helped. I'm not ashamed of it."

Richard had the grace to look ashamed. He knew the basic details of Francis's divorce, but he'd never realize the extent of his friend's depression. "I wish you'd told me what you were going through."

"I didn't really understand it myself. But I'm all right now, and that's the important thing."

"I'm glad you got help, Francis."

Francis laughed. "I'm glad too. And you know what, Beauchamp's was much cheaper than psychotherapy."  
\--

Richard stood on the second floor balcony of his home and stared out at the moors. Stark and wind-whipped, they dominated the landscape in the far north. Most people did not warm to the moors, finding them forbidding and lonely. Just like me.

His conversation with Francis had been a sharp reminder of his loneliness. There has been precious little real contact in his life lately, not just sexual contact, but any sort of the social contact that used to make up his life. He had a few close friends, people he trusted. But over the years, he'd allowed everyone else to sort of drift away. He was too busy to give them his time, the willing ear that friends needed, so they'd turned elsewhere.

It wasn't all that different with women. When he had time, he made the effort, but with his busy schedule keeping him from home more than half-the-year, he could not give a woman the attention she deserved.

It was also a safety mechanism. Keeping to himself and holding the world an arm's length away meant that nobody could take advantage of his trust, nobody could hurt him. He'd had enough pain in his life and did not feel the need to go looking for it.

Still, there was an ache in his heart, a vast emptiness that needed to be filled. He doubted that a few hours spent with an escort would help him, but even some physical pleasure, a bit of human intimacy, was better than nothing.

He took a deep breath and reached into his jacket pocket, drawing out the card from Francis. He peered at it for a moment, deeply uncertain. Then, casting his normal caution to the cold Yorkshire winds, he dialed the number.

\--

_Dear Mr. York,_

_Thank you for your interest in Beauchamp Professional Services._

_Enclosed please find your special access code. You may use it to register at our website (http://www.beauchampservices.co.uk) and browse our catalog of services and service providers. We ask only that you shortlist 2-3 services and/or providers and make arrangements to interview them at your convenience._

_Once you make a final selection of services and/or providers, please fill out the attached contract, including the names of the services and/or providers you select. All contracts are six weeks in duration, and limited to a maximum of 48 hours. We recommend weekend hours. Renewals are available, but solely at our discretion. All payments should be made directly to the service provider you select. We invite you to our offices to finalize the arrangement at your convenience._

_Please note that our services are limited to provide accompaniment to events, both public and private. Any other arrangements must be made directly with the service provide you select and on your own terms._

_We look forward to working with you._

_Sincerely,_  
 _/Anne Beauchamp/_  
Anne R. Beauchamp,  
Executive Director 

\--

Richard drummed his fingers on the table in the coffee shop, nervous. He'd arranged to meet three of the women from Beauchamp's at a coffee shop in the city centre. It's the sort of place where he's unlikely to be recognized, but innocuous enough that there is no danger in it.

He did not have much to go on. Although the company's online brochure had been beautifully presented, it had told him very little. Each escort--service provider, he corrects himself--had a flash card with her name, a headshot and a brief description of her interests. He'd picked three candidates based almost entirely on their interests.

The first one, Kate Berwick, arrived at 3:00 PM on the dot. He was impressed with her punctuality, but she looked years older than her headshot. She had dark hair and dark makeup, her face severe and lined with years of hard partying. She also towered over him, prompting Richard to say the first thing that popped into his head.

"You're very tall."

She raised an overly plucked eyebrow at him. "Yes, I used to be a model."

He offered to buy her a cup of coffee, but she declined. "I don't drink coffee. Or eat sugar. It's all very bad for you."

Richard was tempted to tell her that doing lines of coke was probably also bad for you, but he decided against it.

"So tell me about yourself, what you like, what you don't."

Her eyebrow was apparently in a permanently raised position. "Oh, pretty basic stuff really. Some leather, a few whips, maybe a bit of erotic asphyxiation."

Richard gaped at her and whatever clever response he might have made completely escaped him. She reached over and gently shut his mouth.

"I guess you're not really into all that."

He shook his head, still at a loss for words.

She stood up and mouthed the words theatrically. "I'll just be going then."

\--

An hour later, drinking his third latte, Richard waited for the next candidate, Lizzie Carr. The headshot was of a perky blonde who looked vaguely familiar. He'd only picked her because her bio said she spoke six languages, but he suspected that was probably an exaggeration.

She bounced into the cafe and waved at him, so cheerful he could not help but grin back at her. But by the time she got to him, his mood had changed completely.

"Elizabeth?" Lizzie Carr was really Elizabeth Carrington-Worth, daughter of one of England's wealthiest men who just happened to be on the board at York North.

"Richard!" she said, throwing her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug. "I haven't seen you since Mummy's garden party. What, four years ago?"

They gossiped for a few minutes before he got to the point. "Do your parents know what you're up to?"

She colored prettily and stifled a giggle with her hand. "No, of course not." She cocked a finger at him. "But you're naughty, aren't you?" She laughed. "I won't tell if you don't."

He sighed in mock relief. "But why are you even doing this?"

"Oh, don't be like that. It's perfectly legal and I need the money."

He made a face. "Why on earth do you need money, Elizabeth? You're the richest girl in the country."

"You don't know, do you? Two years ago, I eloped with this French musician." She looked sheepish. "Well, not a real musician. Sort of a busker. Daddy didn't take too well to it and he cut me off. Cold." She ran a hand through her perfectly coiffed hair. "But I can't live on nothing, so I thought I'd do this."

He nodded, although his mind still rebelled at the idea of anyone he knew wanting the lifestyle of an escort. "As long as you know what you're doing, I suppose."

"You're not going to pick me, are you?" she asked at length. "Because that would be weird."

\--

He did not notice her at first. When she walked into the coffee shop, he'd been busy with his phone and not finding him, she'd settled down at the bar with her coffee.

He'd only added her to the list because her bio had been a limerick instead of a paragraph. He'd read it twice before the double meaning dawned on him. She'd been an easy selection after that. Richard liked clever people and valued wit over looks.

Not that she was bad in the looks department. Her features were neat and pretty and her face was pleasant if unremarkable, framed by a long mane of mousy blonde hair. Dressed casually and sipping at her coffee, she did not stand out in any special way.

Almost relieved, he walked up to the bar and cleared his throat. "Amy?"

She turned to face him, a flash of surprise on her face. "You must be Richard." She stuck her hand out to shake. "Nice to meet you."

She had a distinctive northern accent that he could not quite spot. He grinned at her. "Likewise," he said, shaking her hand. "Have you been waiting long?" He waved his phone casually. "I'm sorry. I started in on my e-mail and lost track of time."

She nodded. "Happens to me all the time."

He pulled up a stool and joined her, ordering himself another coffee. "So, Amy, where are you from?"

She gave him a careful look. "Really? You're going to have to do better than that, mate." Her accent was too Manchester for her to be from anywhere else.

"So what's a Manc doing in York then?"

"Working," she said with a smirk. She dropped her voice to a theatrical whisper. "It's where all the money is."

He liked her better than the other two women already. "So what do you like to do?" The words were out of his mouth, and fearing another list of kinky fetishes, he backtracked. "I mean, in your free time."

To his surprise, she took a moment to think before answering. "This is going to sound stupid, but I like to walk on the moors. Pretend I'm Catherine in _Wuthering Heights_."

He laughed, and by the time they finished their coffee, he'd made his choice. It would not be a chore at all to spend the next six weekends with Amy Lancaster.


	2. Weekend #1

Richard's house was an old rectory from the 17th century that had been refurbished with completely modern fixtures and furnishings. But it was also in the middle of nowhere, and when Amy Lancaster showed up at half-past six on Friday evening, fashionably late, he asked if she'd gotten lost.

"No, you're on the SatNav. The taxi driver was able to find it, but it's a bit further away than I thought."

"Yeah, sorry." He felt awkward talking to her as if she were a houseguest. "I had thought of a hotel instead, but--"

"This is fine. Really."

He walked her into his sitting room and offered her a drink, which she politely refused. Not sure what to say, he used the time to take a good look at her instead. She was wearing a golden brown tunic dress that was just short enough to show off her legs with a leather vest over the dress and the fiercest looking red boots he'd ever seen. She was also wearing a ridiculously large hat and carrying a bag made out of what he imagined was sackcloth. Great, he thought with a sinking feeling, she's a hippy. He braced himself for an hour of conversation about art and poverty and the failure of society.

Instead, she surprised him. "So," she said, dropping her bag on the floor and turning to face him. "How do you like it and where do you want it?"

Richard gaped at her and laughed nervously. "I like how direct you are. But I thought maybe we could...chat a bit before?"

She shakes her head. "That's not really how this works. I mean nobody pays 5000 quid a weekend to hold hands. You get me?"

He nodded. "If all I wanted was sex, I'd go down to the city center and get it for a tenner. I want something a little different. Maybe we could go out to dinner?"

"Oh. Oh no." She sat down on the sofa and gave him a long, hard look. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this is not on. This is not Pretty Woman and you're not Richard Gere. I'm not your girlfriend, mate."

Richard sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. This was not going to plan at all. Still, if the idea was to blow off some steam, spending the weekend in bed with a pretty girl was not an entirely bad way to do it. He relented and held his hand out to her. "Fine. Bedroom's upstairs."

She followed him, keeping her hand in his, casual and matter-of-fact about the whole thing. At the top of the landing, she raised an eyebrow in question.

"It's the room at the end of the hall."

"Great. Let's go." She led the way to the bedroom and walked in ahead of him, turning to face him. She walked to the middle of the room, taking off the outlandish hat and tossing it neatly onto a chair without breaking stride. The leather vest came off too, and it was quickly followed by the dress, so she was now standing in front of him wearing only those fierce red boots and a pair of wispy black lace panties.

Richard sucked in a sharp breath and watched her approach him, her breasts bouncing and making it impossible for him to look away. She stopped short in front of him.

"I have two rules, mate. One, I don't do bondage. Two, you have to wear a condom. Deal?"

She could have asked him to take a bullet for her in that instant and he would have agreed. His brain fuzzy with desire, he nodded. "Sure, yeah."

"Let's do this then," she said simply, wrapping her arms around his waist. He chuckled and brought a hand to her face, cupping her cheek as he bent his head to kiss her.

He heard a whisper of protest and felt her fingers against his lips. She shook her head. "I don't kiss."

"What?"

"You can't kiss me. It's too...personal."

For a minute, he was tempted to just kiss her anyway, and damn the rules. But he appreciated the need to draw lines, to know their boundaries. He took in a deep breath and kissed the side of her face instead, his lips skimming her cheek and the bottom of her chin before trailing off to suck at her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer until her breasts pressed against his chest and he could feel the curve of her hips against his own.

Richard ran his hands from her waist down to her hips and over her backside as he walked them over to the bed, stumbling a little as they reached its foot. He set her down gently, and she leaned back, supporting herself on her own arms. He let his eyes rake over her body, lingering a little too long on her gorgeous chest.

She laughed. "Bit of a tits man, are you?"

Richard colored, and then dropped to his knees, glad she could not see his face. "Guilty," he said softly. He ran his hands from her waist down to her thighs, fingers stroking over her skin until he reached the tops of her boots. He pulled one booted leg into his lap and began to unzip it slowly.

"I can do that myself," she said, pulling her leg away.

Richard frowned at her. "No, I'd like to do it. If that's ok."

She smiled and pushed her foot back into his lap. "Yeah, sure. Have at it."

He laughed to hide his dismay. Her mood, casual and indifferent, was making things difficult. He would have like to woo her, coax her with his attentions, but that was probably not on the cards, not tonight. Sighing, he abandoned his gentle seduction and yanked her boots off quickly.

He stood up and answered her amused smirk with one of his own. He put a hand to her shoulder and gently pushed her back on to the bed. She laughed at that and reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her.

Amy's hands slid over his chest and down until she grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up, fingers stroking deftly across the newly exposed skin. Richard drew in a ragged breath at the sudden contact and lifted his arms so she could peel the shirt off.

She tossed it on the bed behind her, her hands quickly making their way back to his bare chest. She ran her tongue along his collarbone, making him gasp and hold her tighter against him. He kissed her neck and trailed his mouth down to the hollow of her throat. His hands had been pressing at her waist, but now, he stroked them up her sides until they came to rest just under her breasts. He stared at them with a mixture of awe and reverence, but just as he was about to touch them, she drew back a little, a question on her lips.

"So, what positions do you like?"

He raised his head from her chest, his hands still hovering over her breasts. She looked distracted and indifferent and he rolled off her and sighed. "Listen, do you think we could just pretend, just for a few minutes, that we're going out or something?"

"Fuck no, mate. I already told you I'm not--"

"Yeah, yeah. You're not my girlfriend, this is not a film, etc." He turned back to her, drawing her against his side, his hand resting gently on her hip. He liked the feel of her in his arms, the way her skin felt under his fingertips, unfamiliar but warm, full of promise. "Let's compromise. We'll do this, but you just can't talk while we do it."

She laughed and relented, snuggling close. She kissed his ear, rimming the edge with her tongue and then trailing her mouth lower to suck and bite at his neck. He threaded his fingers into her hair and whispered her name, and in response, she laughed softly against his chest and threw a slender leg over his waist as she moved to straddle him.

He could not help the moan that left his mouth as she ground herself against him. Amy had a practiced touch. She stroked his shoulders and raked her nails along his back, making his heart beat faster. She nipped at his chest and licked his skin until he was shivering with anticipation, and when she melded her body to his, her long hair trailing over his skin in an electric caress, he could no longer think straight. Instead, he opted to bury his face in her neck, breathing hard and trying to restrain himself as her lips moved lower and skimmed over his stomach.

But when she reached for him, her expert fingers finding his already rock-hard shaft through the fabric of his jeans, it felt all wrong. She was going too fast, trying to end it quickly. It took whatever little self-control he still had to push her hand away. He flipped her over and ignored her gasp of surprise as he pulled her arms over her head and held them, his fingers twined with hers.

"Slow down, Amy." He drew his face level with hers, wanting desperately to kiss her, to bring a little sweetness to this encounter. But already she was turning her face away, so he settled for whispering in her ear. "Just relax and let it happen. Try to enjoy this."

"I told you, this is just--"

"Just business. I know." He sighed against her shoulder, drawing away a little. "But please, for my sake. If it's not good for you, it won't be good for me."

She looked ready to protest, but instead, she reached out and traced a gentle finger along his collarbone. "Alright. Slow."

He drew away from her for a moment to take off his jeans and his boxers. The urgency of a few minutes before had passed, but her eyes were intense as they gave him a quick once-over. Heated by her gaze as much as by her touch, he pushed her gently on to her back and settled his body on top of her. He brought his hands to her face, stroking the hair away and studying her features. Her eyes were a lovely blue, bright with curiosity and there was a dusting of freckles at the tip of her nose. Liking her face very much, he kissed the freckles, her closed eyelids, and her smooth forehead, careful to avoid her lips.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his back and tangled her legs with his, making him groan. He reached between them to hook his fingers into the waistband of her tiny panties, pulling them over her hips and down her thighs before she kicked them off herself, impatient.

He laughed, pulling up to look at her. Her long hair, a sea of golden brown, spread out over her shoulders and across her breasts. He found a nipple through the waves of hair and stroked his thumb across it, before dipping his head down and drawing it into his mouth.

She gasped in pleasure and fisted her fingers in his hair. _Ah, not so indifferent now, are you?_ He chuckled softly against her skin and continued his determined study of her breasts, loving the soft weight of them in his hands, how they felt in his mouth, and the way she cried out when he bit down gently.

He moved lower, running his hands over her sides as he mouthed at the warm skin of her belly. He could feel her body taut with anticipation now, the hands in his hair still as she waited for his next move. He licked a slow wet trail over her stomach and lower until he was right between her legs.

He looked up at her, but her eyes were closed and her face was flush with desire. He brushed his lips over her sex and at that first contact, she cried out as her back came sharply off the bed. He grabbed her hips to hold her still and let his tongue go to work, lapping and stroking, licking and sucking, until he could feel her shuddering climax under his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," she murmured. "You are good."

That was all the encouragement he needed. He rose above her, bracing himself with his hands on either side of her head. Poised and ready, he was about to enter her when she stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

"Rubber," she breathed, and remembering her rule, he pulled away to rifle through the drawer in his nightstand. He found the condom and tore open the foil wrapper, and with shaking hands, he managed to get it on.

"Good," she said, lying back and holding her arms out to him. "Now come here and shag me."

He raised himself above her again and entered her easily in a single deep thrust. She was wet and pulsing and it was difficult to think of anything but moving inside her. He tried to be gentle at first, keeping his thrusts slow. But she found his rhythm quickly and began to meet his thrusts, driving him wild.

"Oh God, Amy," he groaned and cried out. Her legs were wrapped around his hips and with every new thrust, she dug her heels into his back, urging him to go deeper and faster. He had no choice but to give in, and gripping her wrists with one hand, he anchored them above her head and thrust hard into her.

She moaned and writhed under him, swearing each time he rocked against her, urging him to go faster, harder. Soon, she arched her back and cried out as she reached her climax, and Richard let go and thrust wildly into her a few more times until he came, his whole body shaking in pleasure.

Spent, he rolled off her and tried to catch his breath. She curled up against his side, her head on his chest and his arm around her waist, obviously content.

"Wow," he said, once he'd recovered his powers of speech. "That was amazing."

She laughed. "Well, you get what you pay for." She gave him a mischievous look and then hooked her leg over his hips, pushing herself up to straddle him. "And lucky for you, mate, we're not done yet."

\--

Richard woke a few hours later. It had been an incredible night. Amy was fantastic in bed, enthusiastic and completely without inhibition. It was the wildest sex he'd ever had. But he was not exhausted or spent. In fact, if anything, he felt rejuvenated and energized, as if he were ten years younger. Richard laughed, and making a mental note to thank Francis for the suggestion, he reached out for her.

But Amy was not there. Surprised, he sat up in bed and wondered if she'd left already. But her hat and her bag were still on the floor where she'd left them before. His eyes scanned the room quickly, and after a moment, they settled on the bay window. She was standing there, a dark silhouette against the dawn light. The sunshine picked out only her hair, the red-gold of burnished copper, leaving the rest of her body in shadow. She was holding a yoga pose, her arms lifted high and straight above her head in salute. Her body was still and perfectly balanced, taut and ready like an arrow about to fly. She had well-muscled legs, a flat stomach, and rounded perky breasts that seemed to have a life of their own.

He was almost instantly aroused and confounded by his sudden erection, he swore under his breath. She turned at the sound and seeing his desire clearly outlined under the sheets, she raised an eyebrow at him.

She put a hand on her hip and posed for him. "You like?"

Amused, Richard decided to play along. "Very much."

"What do you like?" she asked, padding across the floor towards him.

He leaned back against the pillows. "Does it matter? I like all of it."

She shook her head, not satisfied with the answer. "You have to pick one thing."

"All right. You have the most gorgeous tits I have ever seen."

"Aha, I knew it," she said as she climbed onto the bed, crawling over to his side like a cat. She took his hands and brought them to her breasts. "All yours, mate. For another day anyway."

He laughed and pulled her into his arms. "All mine."

\--

When Richard came back to the bedroom from the kitchen, a tray of fruit and cheese in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, he found Anne rummaging through her bag and swearing.

"Something wrong?"

"I just...I can't find my robe. I think I forgot to bring it." She cocked her head to one side. "Think I could borrow one of yours?"

"Sure. There should be one in the bath." He pointed to the door behind her, and smiling widely at him, she bounded off in that direction.

Richard almost dropped the wine bottle when he heard a loud scream a minute later. He raced off to the bathroom and found Anne standing naked in the middle of the room with her hands over her mouth.

"Are you all right?"

"This bathroom is the most amazing thing I have ever seen."

Richard laughed, amused at her reaction. He supposed it was a rather nice bathroom, Italian marble and tile set off with sleek, modern fixtures.

"You can use the bath, if you like," he suggested.

She gaped at him. "Mate, I am never leaving this room. Ever."

\--

Ultimately, after a few hours of exploring each other's bodies and challenging the laws of physics, they did leave the bathroom. He offered to take her out to dinner, but she was oddly reluctant, so he let it go. Instead, she asked to see the rest of the house, so Richard gave her the grand tour.

What began innocently enough quickly turned into an evening of near-total debauchery. In a game of sexual one-upmanship that nearly blew his mind, they made out in nearly every room of the rectory. The night finally ended with wild, rough sex on top of a very expensive antique rug in Richard's library.

"These are the costliest rug burns I've ever had," she joked as he carried her back upstairs the next morning.

He laughed. "You are insane. And possibly dangerous."

"Well, you get what you pay for."

\--

For Anne, the most awkward part of this job was leaving when the weekend was done, since that was when money exchanged hands, when she finally had to confront the fact that she slept with men for money.

In isolation, this did not bother her too much. She loved sex and she was mature enough not to mistake it for real affection. In her mind, it was just a means to an end. She wanted to leave the horrible string of dead-end office jobs behind forever, and focus fully on her art. She knew she had talent. Her tiny flat was littered with sketches and paintings, enough for a proper exhibition. But she’d never sold anything or been hired to do commission work, and without that, she could not make ends meet as an artist.

She’d resigned herself to the life of an office drone, and until she'd started working at Beauchamp's, she'd never dreamed she'd ever have enough money to quit working and be an artist full time. There was literally no other line of work that would let her make such enormous sums of money in such a short time. In just over a year, she'd made nearly ten times the salary from her day job, and that was nothing to sneer at.

She was careful and discreet. She did not use her real name for her escort work, and she was careful not to spend the money she made either. That way, no suspicions were aroused, everything was perfectly legal, and to the world, she remained mousy little Anne Neville who lived all alone in a small flat above a chip shop. She had a small group of close friends, none of whom knew her secret life, though they were curious why she never went out with them on weekends anymore. She had fobbed them off with stories of visiting an elderly relative in the country, and she did not much care if they believed her.

The truth was that she had no relatives. Her father had died when she was just a teenager, and her mother too while she was at university. Desperate for money after graduation, she'd taken the first job she could find. But secretarial work was dull and barely paid enough to cover her rent.

Beauchamp's had come into her life completely by chance. She'd run into Nan Beauchamp at a coffee shop, and ultimately, she'd been recruited to come work for her. Anne was slightly appalled, but when she heard about the money, it had been too hard to turn away, and once committed, she'd stopped worrying about the morality of her actions.

Most of her clients were older, married men who were turned on by the idea of sex with much younger women, or were trying to escape the boredom of their lives. They paid well and had the good sense not to become too attached. They were rarely interested in more than their own pleasure, however, so Anne had learned to lower her expectations and get through the weekend assignments quickly without looking to enjoy herself.

That was definitely not true of this weekend. Richard York was a surprise in many ways. For one, he was much younger than her usual clients and did not seem to have a wife or girlfriend hidden away somewhere. For another, he'd been interested--almost too interested--in making sure she got off with him. That was enough of a novelty for Anne that she'd given in, but in hindsight, as amazing—mind-blowing—as it had been, taking pleasure in it had been a mistake.

Richard was romantic. He didn't just want sex. He wanted intimacy and passion and these were dangerous things in her line of work. No good could possibly come of it, so when he'd tried to ask her about herself, even just innocent questions, she'd evaded him. It was the only way to keep him from getting too close.

\--

Richard cleared his throat and waited for Amy to finish dressing. She was still wearing the brown dress and the hat, but now that he knew how she looked under them, the clothes seemed less bizarre to him. But they made her seem innocent too, nothing like the woman he'd just spent the weekend with.

"I can drive you back to yours, if you like."

She shook her head. "No, I called myself a taxi already." The look on her face warned him not to insist, so he relented with a nod.

He had not been sure how to pay her. To leave the money on the nightstand would have been gauche, even immoral in his mind, so while she dressed, he'd casually slipped an envelope with a cheque into her bag.

She found it as she rummaged around in her bag. She held it up to him with a smile. "Ah. Thank you."

He nodded politely and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. When he leaned down to kiss her, she stopped him short. "No kissing. Remember?"

"Right," he said, instead giving her an awkward hug that she did not return.

"So, Amy, I'll see you next week then."

"Yes, definitely. 6 PM sharp." Then, she added with a wink. "Rest up. It could be a long night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richard's house: http://www.luxuryportfolio.com/property/york/elegant_former_rectory_.cfm
> 
> The bathroom: http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2014/05/21/article-2634108-1E12EFF700000578-2_964x617.jpg


	3. Weekend #2

Anne unlocked the door to her flat on Wednesday evening. The day had been busy, yet uneventful, just the way she liked her Wednesday to be. She sat the groceries she bought on the cabinet, and started to put them away. 

Two days until the weekend. She would be lying to herself, if tried to say she’d not thought of him this week. She most certainly had, more than she had wanted. It was frustrating beyond belief. She could not control her thoughts, and each night as she was drifting off to sleep, she found herself thinking about his talented hands and tongue. 

She stepped into her living room, and took out the dress she’d bought that evening too. She always had good luck with this particular consignment shop, and tonight had been no exception. She walked into the bedroom, and held the dress in front of her as she looked into the mirror. It was short black, and from the front it was really nothing that special, but it left almost her entire back bare. She’d learned early on there could be something sexy about being mostly covered up. Considering he was most definitely a tits man, she could not help but think he would appreciate she would not be able to wear a bra with it. Not that she wore a bra on weekends anyway. 

She picked up her phone when it rang, looking at the caller ID, she could not help but wonder why in the world he was calling her tonight. 

“Hello.” She said, as she answered the phone. 

“Hello, Amy. It’s Richard. How are you?” He asked. 

“I am fine.” She responded. 

“I am well.” He said softly, even though she’d not asked. “I was thinking, on Friday perhaps we could go out for dinner first.” 

“I told you I am not your girlfriend, you don’t have to wine and dine me like you would a girlfriend.” 

“I would like for this to seem….”

“I’m not your girlfriend you do not have to wine and dine me in order to get into my panties.” She laughed. “You’re getting into my panties.” 

He laughed. “You have to eat though.” 

She shrugged. “I’ll grab something on the way.” 

“No.” He said immediately. “You’re going to let me feed you before we shag.” 

“Fine.” She replied. “I’ll let you feed me before we shag.” 

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He replied. 

“See you on Friday.” She replied, then disconnected the call. 

 

\--

Anne was fortunate that her office closed early every other Friday. It gave her ample time to go home, change, and call a taxi to take her to his place. She chose to wear the black dress, and as he’d mentioned dinner she did not grab anything to eat as she was leaving her flat. 

She walked up to the door, after paying the taxi driver, and knocked. She only had to wait a minute for Richard to come to the door. He wore a white Oxford shirt and jeans. 

“Come in, Amy.” He smiled. 

“I hope you are well rested, mate.” She smiled, reminding him of her parting words from last weekend. 

“Oh, you can bet I am.” He smiled. 

“Hmmm, good deal.” She smiled. She swept past him into the foyer, and smiled to herself at his intake of breath. 

Richard lay his hand against the exposed skin of her back. “I do hope you are hungry.” 

“Hungry for what?” She could not resist saying. 

“For now, food.” He replied softly. 

She laughed. “I can eat. What is it you plan to feed me before we shag?” 

Richard blushed. He liked how blunt she was at time, but there were other times when Amy’s bluntness made him uncomfortable. It reminded him that he was paying her to spend time with him, to be in his bed. But then again, he’d felt much better than he had in months after spending last weekend shagging her. 

“I decided I couldn’t go wrong with pizza. Everyone likes pizza right?” He replied. 

“You decided or your cook decided?” She grinned. 

He laughed. “My servants have the weekend off.” 

“And had last weekend off.” She replied. 

“They did.” He nodded. “It’s only a cheese pizza. I didn’t know if you’re a vegetarian, so a cheese pizza seemed safe.” 

She could not control her laughed. “I’m from Manchester, mate. Why would you think I’m a vegetarian?” 

He laughed softly. “In my defense, you do not live in Manchester now, Amy.” 

“That’s true, I do not.” She shrugged. “Besides, you should be glad I’m not allergic to dairy or something.” 

He grinned. “I remember the ice cream.” 

She laughed softly. “Oh, I’m sure you did.” 

He held the chair out for her as she sat down. He could not help remember the last time he’d been in the dining room with her, during the tour he’d given her of the house. She’d given him what had probably been the best blow job of his life. 

Anne looked up at him, and smiled. “I see you are remembering other things too.” She grinned. 

He laughed softly. “I’ll get our pizza.” 

She laughed very softly. “Are you sure the pizza is what you want?”

He laughed. “What I am sure of is the pizza will be a blackened mess if I do not get it soon.” 

After a moment, she followed him into the kitchen. “You really timed the pizza to be done when I arrived?” She walked over and stood next to him as he looked into the oven. “Actually, I like my pizza a little darker. I like the cheese nice and brown.” 

“So it needs a few more minutes for you?” He asked. 

“Yes, it does.” She replied. She ran her fingers down his chest, and pulled his shirt from his pants. 

“And just what do you think….” 

She laughed very softly. “We’re waiting on the pizza, there’s no reason not to put this time to good use.” 

“What do you have in mind?” He asked. 

“Something, I am certain you’ll like.” She said as she slipped to her knees in front of him. She reached up and undid his belt and unzipped his pants. She looked up at him, licking her lips. “You’ve definitely been thinking about this.” 

“You’re right, I have.” He said softly. Richard felt he should pull her up, tell her this was not necessary at the moment, but he realized exactly how badly he wanted to feel her mouth on him. 

She slowly took his length into her mouth, as his hands went immediately to her hair. She could not help but think she’d taken control of the situation again. This was familiar ground to her, she was comfortable here. 

Richard groaned, knowing he was not going to last long at all. She was so captivating, uninhibited, wild. “Amy…” He muttered, a warning knowing he was close. 

She did not stop though, did not stop as he started to spill. She swallowed all of it, and sat back on her heels, looking up at him. “Better now?” She asked. 

“Yes.” He groaned after a moment. “You should check...the pizza.” He didn’t feel capable of doing it yet. 

She laughed very softly, as she accepted the hand he extended to her to help her up. She looked into the oven. “I do believe it’s perfect.” 

He laughed softly. “That’s good to know.” He straightened his clothes as she took the pizza from the oven. 

She watched him as he took out two plates, the pizza cutter, and a bottle of wine. 

“Red wine is fine for you?” He asked. 

“Of course.” She nodded as she carried the pizza into the dining room. 

Richard sliced the pizza and poured her a glass of wine. “Here you go.” He said as he handed it to her. 

Anne nodded her thanks, and then took a bite. “Good lord, you can actually cook!” She laughed. 

He laughed softly, looking at her. “Did you really think I would tell you I would make you dinner if I could not cook?” 

“Actually I thought your cook would be making dinner.” She replied. 

“Weekend off, remember.” 

“I remember.” She grinned. 

They quietly talked as they ate the pizza. Anne slipped her shoe off, and started to rub her foot against his leg. 

Richard looked at her across the table. This woman was simply going to be the death of him. “More pizza?” He managed. She’d had two slices. 

She shook her head. “No, have to keep my girlish figure.” She grinned. “I believe you’re quite appreciative of that figure. At least certain parts of it.” 

He groaned very softly. “If you mean your tits, damn right I am.” 

She laughed. “And I’m certain you’d like to get acquainted again.” As he stood she slipped her foot back into her shoe. 

“I’m just going to put this away, and then we can…” 

“Get down to business.” She grinned, laughing to herself as he groaned. 

When Richard came back into the dining room, he found her standing near the window, her back to him. He walked over, and ran his finger along the exposed back of her dress. “Do you have any idea how crazy you’ve made me?” He murmured. 

“I might have an idea.” She said as he pulled her back against his chest. 

“I doubt you do.” He murmured as he hands came around her waist, and then moved up to cup her breasts. “I am dying to have you out of this.” 

“Then I think you know what to do.” She groaned.

“Take you upstairs and bang you all night.” He murmured. 

“Take me upstairs and fuck me all night.” She amended. 

He groaned, kissing her neck, smiling as she leaned further against him. “Bed.” He murmured. 

“You really think we can make it there?” She groaned, as he rubbed her hardened nipple through her dress. 

“We’re going to try.” He groaned. 

They made it as far as the living room, and Richard pushed her against the sectional. 

“You cannot wait?” She teased, as he knelt in front of her. 

“No.” He shook his head, as his hand slipped under her dress. He quickly found her panties, and pulled them down her legs. He gently pulled her a little further down the ottoman. 

“You planning to push the skirt up and fuck me?” She asked. Somehow she doubted that, after all he definitely seemed to like her breasts too much. 

He grinned. “That’s a thought, but no.” He put her legs on his shoulder. “Just returning the favor from earlier.” He pushed her skirt up. 

She cried out at the first touch of his mouth, reaching out to tangle her fingers in his hair. She’d tried so hard to think of how he’d gone down on her last week, and now he was doing it again. She soon found herself crying out in pleasure. Why was he so insistent on giving her so much pleasure? 

He looked up at her and grinned a few moments later. “Better now?” 

Anne laughed shakily. “I suppose so. 

He gently stroked the calf of her leg. “You want to try to make it upstairs now?”

Anne pushed herself to sit up. “In a moment.” She still felt shaky. 

After a moment, Richard picked her up in his arms. 

“Carrying me again?” She laughed. 

“You’ve driven me crazy, so yes.” He laughed. 

Once they’d reached the bedroom, Richard deposited her gently on the floor. He gently turned her so her back was to him. “You are driving me mad in this dress.” He murmured. 

“You had your chance downstairs, you should have just fucked me while the skirt was up.” She groaned, as his hands came around and cupped her breasts again. 

“And deprive myself of a glorious sight?” He murmured. “Never.” 

“My tits.” She laughed. 

“Exactly.” He kissed her neck. “And however lovely you look in this dress, I know you look lovelier without it.” 

She groaned softly, leaning back against him. “Then why don’t we work on that?” 

He leaned down, kissing the exposed skin of her back, before removing the dress. 

Once it was off, Anne turned around. She was completely naked now. She took his hands and placed them on her breasts. “I believe it’s time for you to become reacquainted.” 

“You’re right, it is.” He gently pushed her onto the bed. 

She laughed softly, sitting up and laying her hand on his chest when he would have joined her. “You are completely overdressed, lose the clothes before you join me.” 

He laughed softly, taking off his shirt. “You are completely bossy.” 

“I can’t help it that I rather feel skin than a shirt, no matter how fine it is.” 

Once he’d taken off his pants, he climbed onto the bed with her, gently pushing her back. When she would have spoken, he placed his fingers against her mouth. “No talking.” 

She laughed softly, remembering how he’d been last weekend. She could not help but moan softly as he kissed his way down to her breasts, she tangled her fingers in his hair as he became reacquainted with her breasts. 

He kissed his way down her stomach, as his fingers went further down, and he slipped one inside. She moaned as he curled it and hit the perfect spot. 

He lifted his head up, looking at her flushed face and closed eyes. “You want it?” He asked. 

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Yes.” She watched as he sat up to remove his boxers. “Don’t forget the rubber.” 

He laughed softly, reaching for it on the nightstand. “Already prepared.” 

“Aren’t you a boy scout.” She laughed. 

“Yes, I was.” He laughed, as he settled between her open legs. 

She closed her eyes as he thrust inside of her. She groaned softly, digging her nails into his back as she wrapped her legs around him. “Yes….” 

He groaned, as his thrusts became faster, as he lost control. “Amy.” He took her hands, holding them above her head with one of his. 

She rose up, matching his rhythm. “Just fuck me.” 

He groaned thrusting faster as her back arched and she cried out her climax. He thrust a few more times, and then cried out his own. 

“I could get used to this.” He groaned, as he moved to lay next to her. 

She turned on her side, raising up and tracing his collarbone with her finger, and then her tongue. “Then it’s a good thing the weekend is just getting started.” 

\--

It was the early morning hours of Sunday, she could just see the sun started to rise through the windows. He was asleep next to her, his arm over her waist, his head pillowed against her breasts. 

Saturday had passed in a haze of sex, her riding him in the living room, him bending her over the desk in his office and fucking her until she had almost cried from the pleasure. That had been the time when she’d first allowed him to really hold her. She’d been fine, but the amount of pleasure he was giving her had almost been overwhelming, and it had taken her a moment to pull away from him. 

She was an adult woman, her emotions were not engaged in this, not at all. But Richard York was trouble, a lot of trouble. 

She glanced over at the mirrored closets. She’d teased him about wanting to watch, but in the end she’d been the one who could not resist turning her head to side, and watching as they’d fucked. So that was what it was like to fuck a man who seemingly cared as much about her pleasure as he did his own. 

He was trouble. She could not forget that, not for a moment. She closed her eyes, as she felt him pull her closer. She tried not to think about how comfortable she felt in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anne's little black dress: http://us.asos.com/TFNC-Skater-Dress-With-Open-Scallop-Back/13i7ei/?iid=4203454&cid=15801&Rf1012=4461&Rf-200=4&sh=0&pge=0&pgesize=36&sort=-1&clr=Black&mporgp=L1RGTkMvVEZOQy1Ta2F0ZXItRHJlc3MtV2l0aC1PcGVuLVNjYWxsb3AtQmFjay9Qcm9kLw..
> 
> Richard's bedroom: http://dartbits.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Classic-style-Modern-Elegant-Master-Bedroom-Designs-by-Serj-Rubalevsky.jpg


	4. Weekend #3

**Chapter 4. Weekend #3**

 

“Will that be all, Mr. York?” 

Richard nodded at Joan Kendall, his assistant of many years. “If you can just make sure that the matrices for the new project get to the finance and marketing departments by tomorrow morning.”

“Right away, sir.” But she did not leave right away, prompting him to raise a questioning eyebrow at her. 

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just that you seem different.” She gave him a careful appraisal. “Years younger. Have you had work done?” 

He laughed. “No. Do you think I should? Too many wrinkles?”

She scoffed. “You’re too young for that. And you’re just as gorgeous as ever.”

“Thank you. Now go away before it all goes to my head, Joan.”

After she let herself out, Richard leaned back in the chair and pondered her reaction. There had only been change in his life, and that was Amy. Thanks to her weekend visits, he’d had more sex in the past two weeks than in the two years before. Not just ordinary sex either, but wild, uninhibited, nearly pornographic sex. Amy was sexy, gave incredibly good head, and was easily the most enthusiastic sexual partner he’d ever had. He wondered for a moment if she’d ruined him for other women. 

It was not even just the sex. A man of his means could find sex anywhere at any time. But, as Francis predicted, Amy gave him something a bit different. It was not only the sex that drew Richard to her, but the fact that she wanted him. He’d felt her climaxes firsthand, heard her cries in the throes of passion. Desire was a funny thing, where his own for her grew in proportion to how much she wanted him. 

Still, it bothered Richard that everything was so clandestine. He’d never been anywhere in public with Amy, and she’d always refused to go out with him, or interact with him outside the confines of his own home. That would have to change. 

On a sudden impulse, he called Joan back into his office. 

“Can you see if the jet is free this Friday?” 

“Of course. Business or pleasure?” 

_Oh, pleasure. Definitely pleasure_. “Weekend holiday, actually.”

Joan scribbled a few notes on her tablet. “Usual place?”

“Yes. Can you make sure it’s ready by Friday?"

“Absolutely. Will it just be you flying? I need to tell the pilot.” 

Richard laughed. “No. For once, I will not be traveling alone. I’m taking a friend. Have Captain Smith add Miss Amy Lancaster to his manifesto.”

He pretended to ignore the knowing smirk on Joan’s face. “That will be all, Joan. And don’t be such a smartarse.”

After Joan confirmed the arrangement, Richard dialed Amy’s number, suddenly as nervous as he’d ever been. The phone rang an impossibly long time before she answered it, her voice just a crackle down the line. 

“Amy, it’s Richard?”

“Richard? Richard who?” 

He stammered. “Er, you were at my house last weekend? We had pizza?” _We fucked all weekend long?_ He had a sudden sinking feeling that she’d forgotten all about him. The long silence on the phone was not helping. 

Abruptly, the silence gave way to crackling laughter. Oh. She was mocking him. 

“That was wicked, Amy.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you this weekend.” She paused and dropped her voice into a sexy whisper. “I promise.”

God, she was going to be the death of him. “Yeah, about that,” he said, trying to keep his composure. “It’s a bank holiday weekend. Do you want to go away with me?” 

Another long silence, but this time, there was no laughter at the other end. He could almost feel her hesitation through the phone. 

In time, she did answer him. “Yeah, sure, yeah.” 

“I’ll pick you up about 6 on Friday then?” 

“No,” she said, almost vehement. “I’ll just come to the airport.” 

Richard sighed. “Fine. Just be there by 7.” He was about to hang up when he heard her voice call out to him. 

“So where are we going? It doesn’t matter to me, but I need to know what to pack. Unless you just want me to be naked all weekend.”

He laughed. “That would be preferable, yes. But bring some clothes, just in case. Um, beach wear?” 

“Ok. I’ll see you around 7 then.” Then, she added mischievously. “Rest up, mate.”

\--

Anne stood by the edge of the bed and surveyed her empty suitcase. Richard’s invitation had confused her. It was not that unusual to be asked to go away for the weekend, and she’s made several “dirty weekend” trips with clients before. But this did not feel like a holiday. This felt like trouble. 

She’d agreed to go with him partly because the contract entitled him to her company over the weekend. But the other part, the larger part, was because she wanted to go away with him. 

Anne had been thrilled to hear his voice, soft and sexy, and when he’d referenced their last weekend together, she’d almost hung up so she could daydream about the way he’d bent her over his desk and pounded into her so hard she thought he’d split her in two. When she came that time, the pleasure had been so overwhelming, it was nearly at the edge of pain. 

There was nothing for it, no way to rationalize it. She wanted him, and bad. This was a new feeling for her, and she could not quite understand it. She liked having sex, and she’d slept with a lot of men, but only a few times had she experienced real desire, that insatiable need to be with someone. She’d never _wanted_ like this before. With her other clients, she’d always wished for Sunday to come quickly, so her weekend assignment would finally be over. But with Richard, Sunday evening was bittersweet, and she almost always found herself wishing she could stay longer. 

Anne worried that she wanted him for more than just sex though. She’d been dismayed and a little frightened, when she’d lain in his arms and let him hold her close. She’d felt warm, safe, even loved. Alarm bells began to go off in her head. _Loved? Oh fuck, no. This is not happening to me._

Anne tried to shake off her concern and focused her energies on packing. If the past two weekends were anything to go by, they’d spend most of their time shagging each other’s brains out. Clothing was probably not strictly necessary. Still, some concessions had to be made for propriety, and with that in mind, she began to throw clothes into the suitcase. 

It took a bit longer to decide what she’d wear on the flight, but after some deliberation, she chose a simple black dress with a full skirt and a Peter Pan collar that buttoned all the way up to her neck. It was prim and demure and would probably drive him crazy, especially when he discovered she was not wearing any underwear. 

When she was done packing, she reached into the bottom of her sock drawer and pulled out a waterproof envelope. Inside was the only aspect of her real life as Anne Neville that overlapped with her life as an escort: her passport. She had no idea how she’d get through immigration without Richard finding out her real name and identity.

\--

Richard spotted Anne in the crowded airport terminal and waved her over. She gave him a bright smile, but when he tried to hug her, she did not respond, making the whole gesture awkward. 

“Do you have my boarding pass?” she asked. 

“No, you don’t need one, but we’re going to have to take a little drive down to the old airfield, if that’s ok.” 

“Why?” 

He smiled. “That’s where the jet is.” 

Her eyes were wide. “Jet? Private jet? You have your own plane.”

“Yes. Is that a problem?” 

She laughed. “No, mate. No problem at all.” 

Barely ten minutes later, Richard led a slightly-wind-tousled Amy into the cabin of the jet. She let out a low whistle. 

“It’s gorgeous. I can’t believe people actually travel like this.” 

He laughed and admitted the jet’s main cabin was impressive. He directed her into one of the captain’s chairs by the windows. “It’s just like regular air travel though. You do sort of have to sit down and wear your seat belt for a while.” 

The steward served them champagne and crudités, and after they’d been cleared for takeoff, the little jet sped down the tarmac and lifted off, heading due south. Amy sipped her drink and took in her surroundings, her eyes wandering from the view outside the window to the luxurious furnishings in the cabin. 

Richard just watched her instead. He liked the way her eyes widened when she was surprised, or how she flicked hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. She had an adorable dimple in just one cheek, and for a second, he contemplated reaching over the table between them to kiss her soundly.

She confused him. The first weekend they spent together, she’d been a free spirit who did things her own way. The second weekend, she’d been a sex kitten, sophisticated and alluring, but intent on seducing him. Now she was dressed like a demure schoolgirl, wide-eyed and innocent.

He wondered if this was deliberate. Amy was putting up a façade so he could not know her or get any closer to her. He’d felt it the last weekend too, when she’d wanted him sexually but had kept a tight rein on her emotions, resisting his attempts to get close to her. 

But for Richard, sexual satisfaction was never enough. He only enjoyed women when his emotions were engaged, when he felt a connection with them beyond just physical. He’d felt that with Amy even when they first had sex, and now he just needed for her to let her guard down around him. 

Richard understood that she was protecting herself, always keeping control over their interactions, limiting herself to her own comfort zone. But that would never be enough for him. He’d have to make her sacrifice a little control, if only so she could confront her own emotions and appreciate the connection they’d made. 

The seat belt sign dinged off, and Richard unbuckled himself and got up, sinking down into the suede comfort of one end of the sectional. Anne followed his lead, but took a seat at the opposite end, tucking one leg under her as she sat down. From the way the dress melded itself to her body as she sat down, he guessed she was not wearing a bra. This thought sent blood rushing from his brain straight to his groin. 

She caught him staring at her and raised an eyebrow in silent question. 

‘Nothing,” he said with a smile. “You know, if the point of that dress was to put me off, you’ve failed miserably.” He let his eyes rake over her for a moment. “You have no idea how turned on I am right now.”

“Some idea,” she said with a smirk, her eyes flitting down to his crotch and the slight bulge visible there. “For what it’s worth, I’m quite turned on too right now.”

“Really?” He patted his lap. “Why don’t you come here and show me.”

\--

Anne was surprised, and for a second, she gaped at him. As many times as they’d had sex, she’d always been the one to make the first move. Now he’d taken the prerogative and she was not sure how to react. 

Slowly, she got up from her seat and walked over to him. He grabbed her by the waist and she fell forward and straight into his lap. She tried to stand up, supporting herself with her hands on either side of his head, but he pulled her close again, this time shifting her legs so she was straddling him. She could feel his arousal through the layers of their clothes, but he made no other move. 

Instead, he was being rather tender with her. He kept a hand at her waist, and with the other he pushed a strand of hair out of her face to caress her cheek, then dropped the hand back down to her waist. He kissed the side of her face, her ear, and her neck, sucking and biting at the soft skin there.

Anne groaned. This was unfair. She was meant to be in charge, but now he was in control and her mind was fogged with desire. It took a huge effort to focus, to remind herself not to give in, not to enjoy this. 

But just as she was about to pull away, the hands at her waist stroked up her sides and came to rest at her breasts. He squeezed them, stroking the hardened nipples with his thumbs. Anne closed her eyes, sighed in pleasure and wrapped her arms around his neck, curling her fingers into his hair. He responded by bringing his mouth to her breast and licking her nipple through the fabric of her dress, making her gasp in delight. 

“No bra?” he said against the wet spot on her breast he was still lipping. She could practically hear the amusement in his voice. 

She leaned over, kissed his cheek and matched his amused tone. “No panties either, mate.” She felt a hint of satisfaction at his sharp intake of breath, at the sudden stillness of the hand squeezing her breast. 

“Look at me, Amy.” It was neither a request nor a command, just a statement. So she opened her eyes and found herself staring into his grey-green ones, intense and dark with desire. His eyes never left hers, but his hand slid under the hem of her dress, fingers stroking up her thigh until they made contact with the wetness between her legs. 

“You _are_ turned on, aren’t you?” he said playfully. She was already impossibly wet, and as he stroked her clit, she thought she’d break. She took in a ragged breath and closed her eyes, burying her head in his shoulder. He chuckled against her hair and slid a finger into her, then a second, making her buck against his hand. Anne bit her lip to keep from crying out as he began to pump his fingers in and out of her, setting a relentless pace that she could not help but respond to. When he rubbed her clit with his thumb, she came hard, screaming primally into his shoulder. She wanted him now and badly. “Just fuck me already,” she whispered hotly in his ear. 

At this, his fingers stilled and he pulled them out of her, resting his head against her forehead for a moment before moving her off his lap and on to the seat next to him. He straightened her dress and combed the hair out of her face with his fingers, a tender and gentle gesture. 

Confused, Anne watched him for a moment and then reached for him, her hand closing around his still-hard shaft through the fabric of his pants. But he jumped at her touch and moved her hand away. 

“No, Amy. Not now. Later.”

“Later?” 

“There’s another hour in this flight, so for that hour, we’re going to behave ourselves. “ He kissed her forehead. “Now, let’s see what movies we have on hand." 

\-- 

When they landed, Richard took a sidelong glance at Amy. She was clearly frustrated with him, but instead of lashing out or being angry, she’d sort of withdrawn from him. They had only made polite conversation the rest of the flight and he wondered if he’d make the wrong decision. 

He’d needed all of his will power not to just throw her down on the seat and bang her senseless. But he wanted her to stop distracting him with sex and this was the only solution that had come to him, and now he needed to fix things. Sighing, he unbuckled his seat belt and helped her with her bags. 

She accepted his help without a word though she walked on ahead of him and didn’t look back. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to her. “Are you angry with me?” 

Amy scoffed. “No. I don’t get angry. I get even.”

He laughed. “Should I be worried?” 

“Yes. Very.”

\--

As they approached the terminal, Anne started to worry, biting her lip as she focused on a solution to her identity problem. Once they got to immigration control, Richard would know her real name, and this would start him down a path of discovery she did not want. 

He was holding her hand, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles, but she pulled out of his grip. “Listen, I need to go to the ladies’."

He nodded. “Ok. I’ll wait for you.”

“No, mate. The queue looks long. You go on ahead and I’ll meet you in a few minutes, yeah?” 

He hesitated, but ultimately, he agreed and queued up for immigration control while she went to the bathroom. 

Once inside, Anne leaned against the door and sighed. She was still moderately frustrated with what passed between her and Richard on the jet. She had wanted him, she had given in a little too easily, and in the end, he had somehow taken the upper hand. 

Still, she had a few minutes now to regain her composure and she was going to put it to good use. She gave herself a quick appraisal in the mirror. There was a red mark on the part of her neck that Richard had given a little too much attention to, but otherwise, she looked fine. There was nothing about her face that gave away her emotional state and she was content with that. After quickly running a brush through her hair and fixing her makeup, Anne pulled her passport out of her bag and made her way to the immigration line.

Fortunately, Richard had already gone through and was waiting for her on the other side of the barrier. She smiled at him and waved while she put her mind to how she’d get back at him for his antics on the flight. 

\--

Richard’s beach house was on the crest of cliff, with a tiny private beach, just a strip of white sand and blue water, nestled into the valley below. The place was glass on three sides, and at night, lit up from the inside, it looked like a lighthouse in the distance as they drove up to it. 

The interior was all clean lines and white space, very modern. Richard deposited their luggage near the door and walked Amy through the house. He enjoyed her wide-eyed curiosity and her surprised reaction to the place. When she was not trying to seduce him, she was really rather sweet. 

“Do you want something to eat?” The question was innocent, but when she looked back at him, a smirk on her face, he emended quickly. “I mean, actual food. For now.”

She laughed. “No, but I wouldn’t mind a bath.”

He nodded and gestured towards the far end of the house. “It’s past the bedroom. On your left.”

\--

Richard waited until he could no longer hear the bath water running to make his way to the bedroom. When he got there, he found Anne sitting on the bed wearing a short silk robe, her damp hair framing her face. He leaned on the glass partition that separated the bedroom from the rest of the house and admired the picture she made. 

“So are you just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to fuck me?”

He laughed and made his way to the bed, pulling her into his arms as he lay back. “I thought you’d never ask.” Amy was soft and warm from her bath and she smelled glorious, like lavender and citrus. He could not get enough of her, as he wrapped his arms tight around her waist and nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply and mouthing soft kisses over her warm skin. 

She hummed gently in response and kissed the hollow of his throat, making Richard’s pulse jump. He felt her deft fingers unbutton his shirt and her lips left gentle kisses on every newly exposed bit of skin. He sighed and tangled his hands in her hair, loving the way she was pressing herself against him as she pulled the shirt off his body. He was aroused and already straining against the fabric of his trousers. 

“Oh,” she said, her fingers gently brushing over his erection. “That looks uncomfortable. I should help you.” Her hands closed around his belt buckle and she pulled it off in a single quick motion before she unzipped his pants and began to push them down over his hips. Impatient, he kicked them off the rest of the way and drew her back into his arms. 

He slid the robe off her shoulders a little, stroking his fingers and then his lips over the warm skin. He let his hand trail lower until he could touch her breasts. He squeezed them gently with his hands and rasped a thumb across her hard nipples. 

Her breath hissed against his chest and she stilled her exploration of his body. She sat up on her knees and watched him with narrowed eyes. “Are you ready?” 

He did not know what she meant but decided to go along with it. “Yes.”

“Good.” Her hands went to the sash of her robe and she undid it slowly, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. The fabric sighed open to reveal her glorious body, those gorgeous tits he could never get enough of. 

“Oh God, Amy, you’re so beautiful.” He was so busy admiring her body he never took note of the mischievous glint in her eyes. Abruptly, she leaned over him and grabbed his wrists, pinning them high above his head. A swish of silk later, she’d tied his hands to the bedpost with the sash of her robe. 

“Amy?” He gaped at her in shock. “What the fuck is this?” 

“Payback, mate.”

He tugged his hands, trying to free himself. “I thought you weren’t into bondage.”

She sighed. “This isn’t bondage. It’s only a ribbon. If you pull really hard, you’ll be free.” When he did just that, sitting up a little for better leverage, she put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him back down. “But what would be the fun in that?”

_So that was her game_. After a moment’s hesitation, Richard relented and lay back on the pillows, amused. This sudden change in pace should have killed the mood, but instead he was now as intrigued and aroused as ever. His erection was practically standing at attention. 

She sat up again and kneeled next to him, her eyes taking him in as she licked her lips. For a second, he thought she was going to go down on him, but that was apparently not the plan. Instead, she shrugged out of the robe and let it fall to the floor, leaving her completely bare. 

He admired her naked body, just the right combination of lean muscle and soft, yielding curves. She was also very comfortable with herself, and it showed in the absolute lack of inhibition she brought to the bedroom. He wanted her; he wanted her very badly. 

But Amy did not seem to be in a hurry. She sat down casually in front of him, her eyes hard on his. When she was certain she had his attention, she began to run her hands over her body, caressing her breasts with one hand while the other stroked down her belly and dipped down into the dark patch between her legs. She spread her legs just a little, revealing her glistening wetness. 

“Amy,” he said, a strangled sound. “Don’t tease me.” 

She laughed in response and began very slowly to stroke her clit with her fingertips. Richard swore and squirmed, his erection now almost painful. He wanted to take her, _needed_ to take her. 

Amy continued to pleasure herself, her fingertips moving slowly at first as she tried to find a rhythm but then speeding up as she became more aroused. She closed her eyes and threw back her head, panting and crying out as her fingers moved hard and fast, then harder and faster. He watched as she touched her breasts and squeezed her nipples, her moans now loud and insistent. She was close, and frustrated with not being able to hold her or kiss her, he closed his eyes and swore under his breath. 

Abruptly, the moaning and panting stopped and he heard the familiar rustle and tear of a foil wrapper. When he opened his eyes, it was to the sight of Amy leaning over and rolling a condom onto him. 

“I’m going to fuck you now.” She said it simply and before he could protest, _as if he even would_ , she straddled him and lowered herself onto him, taking him inside her in a single, quick motion. 

She started slowly, rocking her hips gently against his. She was hot and wet and perfect and he closed his eyes to savor the experience, certain he was dreaming the whole thing. That was the only way that anything this like could be happening to him. She put a hand to his shoulder and bracing herself, Amy began to go faster, moving up and down, her gorgeous breasts bouncing with the motion. He could not take his eyes off her. He wanted to grab her, to rub his face against her chest, to kiss her, but instead, he thrust his hips up to meet hers, and after a few moments, he found her rhythm. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s good!” she said as he rose up again to meet her hips. Supporting herself with her hands on his shoulders, she began to move even harder and faster, riding him as if she wanted to break him. She was relentless and demanding, utterly and completely in control of her own pleasure, and of his. 

She came hard, a stream of swearing erupting from her mouth as she rode him, punctuated by her cries of pleasure. He could feel her walls clench around him, and a moment later, unable to hold on any longer, he joined her in climax, thrusting wildly into her as he called out her name. 

When she was done, Amy drooped onto his chest, panting and exhausted. After she came back to herself, she kissed his chest and then, in a move that surprised him, she cupped his face in her hands and gently kissed his cheeks and his eyelids. Reaching above his head, she undid the sash and freed him, rubbing gently at the red marks on his wrists. 

With his hands now free, he put a gentle arm around her and kissed her forehead. “Thank you. That was amazing.”

“I know,” she said simply, and before he could gather her in his arms, she turned her back to him and fell asleep. 

\-- 

They spent the day on Richard’s private beach, enjoying their own strip of paradise between the tall cliffs, their naked bodies warmed by the sun and by the gentle after-glow of sex. 

Amy lay on a blanket, her head in his lap. She’d been wearing a bright blue bikini, but it had long since been abandoned in the process of enthusiastically shagging each other all morning. Not that Richard was complaining. He probably would never tire of looking at her glorious body. 

He stroked her bare arms idly. Despite her best efforts to hide from him, she was slowly but surely revealing herself. He knew, for example, that she liked to be in charge, whether in bed or arguing with him about what to eat for breakfast. But there was more to Amy than just a struggle for control. When she wasn’t trying to fuck him blind, she could be charming. She had a natural curiosity about the world around her, and even though she had every reason to be cynical and bitter, she still retained a wide-eyed innocence, a sense of joy that endeared her to him, and made him want to cherish her. 

He lost his train of thought when Amy sat up abruptly and pointed at her foot. “Look!” There was a tiny crab sitting on her big toe and making a game effort to climb up the sand streaked over her leg. She turned to face him, a grin on her face and mischief in her bright blue eyes. “You should know, mate. I have crabs.” She barely finished the sentence before dissolving in peals of laughter at her own lame joke. 

He could not bring himself to laugh though, not around the sudden lump in his throat. Deeply unsure of himself, he reached out and moved a bit of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His hand lingered there until she pushed it away, frowning at him in dismay. 

“What?” she said, not quite meeting his eyes. 

“Nothing. I just…I like your face.”

She dropped his gaze, and suddenly annoyed, she brushed the poor crab off her foot and stood up. “It’s hot, mate. I’m going for a dip.” 

As he watched her run off to the water’s edge, it hit him like a ton of bricks. He was falling in love with her. 

\--

Somehow he managed to convince her to go into town for the evening. Maybe it was because they were away from York, or maybe it was because he’d broken through her guard somehow, but after the sun went down, they took a casual stroll to a tiny bistro at the water’s edge. 

Amy was wearing a simple black shift dress, but a bit on the short side. It showed off her toned legs to great effect, and he was proud of how sexy and beautiful she was, but also dismayed at the attention she drew from other men. Trying not to be an idiot, he dismissed his concerns and ferried her through the throngs and into the restaurant. 

They sat down to eat, Richard marveling at how normal and ordinary it felt. He could pretend, if only for a moment, that he was on holiday with a girlfriend. Of course, the reality was much more complicated than that. Having realized at least some of his own feelings, he was at a loss about what to do. Was he meant to keep seeing Amy? Could their current arrangement be enough for him? His head throbbed from the effort of trying to unpack it all, so he gave up and took a long swig of his wine instead. 

“So how did you end up with a beach house here? And your own beach?”

He laughed. “Well, the property actually belongs to my mother, but she’s never used it, so I had it remodeled for myself a few years ago.”

“Is the private jet your mum’s too?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she teased him. 

“No. That one belongs to my brother, Ed. He’s a bit of a showoff.”

“You have a brother?” 

He nodded. “Two of them, actually. And three sisters too.”

“Fuck me, that’s a big family.”

“What about you? Lots of brothers and sisters?”

She met his eyes evenly. “I don’t talk about myself.”

He nodded, feeling thwarted. But he was rescued from saying more as their meal arrived. They talked quietly as they ate, about their food, about the books they’d read recently, and finally about Minorca. He was surprised to discover that Amy knew a lot about local art and history despite never having been to the island in her life. 

“How do you know all this?” 

“No personal questions, remember?” 

“Oh, c’mon. That’s not personal. You can answer one question.”

After a moment, she relented. “Well, I’m a bit of a geek anyway. But I also studied history at uni.”

“Really? Where?”

“I’ve already answered one question. You don’t get any more, mate."

He gave up and focused on making polite conversation instead. In due course, the meal ended and when the bill came, he made to pay it until she stopped him.

“I can pay my own share,” she said. 

He frowned. “No, of course not. Don’t be silly. It would be odd for—“

“This is not a date. You don’t have to pay for me.” 

Richard took in a deep breath, just at the edge of exasperation. “Fine. Not a date. Consider it a business luncheon then, one where your client picked up the tab,” he added sharply, oddly pleased when she winced in response. 

They made their way out of the restaurant in silence, but halfway back o the house, she’d recovered her good humor, letting him hold her hand and leaning close against him as they walked home. 

Back at the beach house, they sat on the sofa in the living room starting out at the moonlit night. He tried to cuddle with her, putting arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head, but she pulled away and moved to another chair.

“You want some wine?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, crestfallen but trying to hide it. All he wanted was a moment of quiet, a little bit of romance. Why was she so resistant? 

He heard her rummaging around the kitchen, and a few minutes later, she came back with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle in the other, pouring as she walked.   
She handed him his glass and sat down across from him, kicking off her shoes and folding her legs underneath her. She was adorable. 

“Thank you for letting me take you to dinner. I had a good time.” 

Amy winked at him. “I’m pretty much a guaranteed good time, mate.” 

Richard laughed. “That you are. In fact, when we’re done, I’ll have to sign up for the next six weeks too.”

She stilled and set her glass down. He watched as her expression changed from bold to guarded in the space of a second. “You can’t do that. I’m already booked up for the next 12 weeks. 

“And they’re regulars, so I can’t just cancel.” 

The words stuck in Richard’s throat. “Regulars?” he stammered. 

Her eyes were sharp and narrow. “People I see more than once.” 

He scoffed, oddly bitter. “And just how people have you seen?” 

“You cannot be serious, mate.”

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” he said, suddenly very weary. 

She laughed, but there was no trace of amusement in her voice. “You want to know how many men I’ve fucked for money? Is that what you want? It’s 16. Not including you, that is.”

“Amy,” he warned, but she ignored him. 

“And do you know why I do it? Because I like money, and I like to fuck.” She spat the words at him, each one a barb intended to attack him.

His pride wounded, he struck back. “You think that’s ok then? You’re not ashamed of yourself?”

At that, she got up off the couch. All the blood had drained from her face and he could see her hands tremble. “What a fucking hypocrite you are.” She turned on her heel, throwing out a parting shot. “Come find me when you’re done being a complete wanker.”

\--

Richard was in turmoil. He didn’t even really understand what had just happened. When he’d heard her speak of regulars, all he could think of was Amy, with her eyes closed and her face flushed with desire, moaning and writhing under some other man. At that, something in his brain had snapped and all his self-control had disappeared in an instant. 

She was right, of course. He had no right to say the things that had come out of his mouth. He had no say in what she did or how she did it; her life was her own. But he could not shake the feeling that there was more between them, that she was meant to be with him, and _only_ him. 

He was a hypocrite, but he was a hypocrite in love with her, and he’d have to make amends somehow. With that thought, he trudged towards the bedroom. When he got there, he was relieved to find Amy was not a tearful mess. Indeed, she was lying in bed and resolutely ignoring him. 

Richard sighed and stripping off his clothes, he crawled under the covers and moved closer to her. He put a hand to her shoulder, gently kissing it and stroking the skin with his fingers. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, any of it.”

She was still and silent for the longest time, making him wonder if she was asleep. But at length, she whispered. “You tried to shame me. But I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m not ashamed, not even a little.”

“I know. And you shouldn’t be. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” He snaked his arm around her waist, pleased when she did not pull away. “I’m not ashamed to be with you.

“It’s just…” He struggled to find the right words. “I’m just jealous. I didn’t want to be just another guy you’d slept with. I thought I was…different.”

She said nothing, and for a second, his heart sank. He’d admitted more than he intended and she’d rejected that. But after a moment, she surprised him, covering his hand at her waist with her own, twining her fingers with his. He felt reassured when he felt her thumb stroke his knuckles. 

“You are different,” she said softly. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is easily the filthiest thing I have ever written. I'm not sorry. 
> 
> The inside of Richard's private jet:   
> http://images.idiva.com/media/luxury/content/2013/Oct/jet_aviation2.jpg
> 
> Richard's private beach:   
> http://www.unfinishedman.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Cala-Macarella-Beach.jpg
> 
> Richard's beach house:   
> http://www.homes-house.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/Home-Decorating-Exterior-Ideas.jpg
> 
> Beach house bedroom:   
> http://st.houzz.com/simgs/80a189e60b215130_8-1000/modern-bedroom.jpg


	5. Weekend #4

Anne hit her pillow. Not being able to sleep was so incredibly frustrating. She’d not sleep well since arriving home on Sunday. She kept thinking about him, about Richard. Why had she told him he was different? It was true, he was different, but why had she admitted as much to him? She could not understand it at all. She still had three weekends left with him, and somehow she had to regain control of the situation. 

She was relieved when he did not call her on Monday or Tuesday. She was also relieved she’d had Monday off work due to the Bank Holiday. In truth, she’d slept most of the day, which had shocked her. 

Somehow, she’d not been surprised when her phone rang on Wednesday evening. It took her a couple of moments to answer it. 

“Hello.” She said. 

“Hey, Amy.” He said. 

She smiled. “Hello, Richard, how are you?” 

He sighed. “In London.” 

“London? Business, I suppose?” She asked. 

“Exactly.” He laughed a little. “I was wondering, how does a weekend in London sound to you, Amy?”

She was quiet for just a moment. “Actually that doesn’t sound bad. I may not be able to make it to London by 6 though.” 

“That doesn’t matter.” He replied. “We’ll just say the weekend starts when you get here.” 

“That works for me, Richard.” She replied. 

“I’ll text you the information for the hotel.” He said softly. “Why don’t you bring a nice dress? The hotel has a great restaurant.” 

She laughed very softly. “And the hotel will also have room service.” 

“Just what are you saying?” He laughed softly. 

“I am saying once I reach the hotel room, it’s very unlikely we’re going to leave that room until Sunday.” She laughed softly. 

 

He laughed very softly. “You do have a point. Still bring a dress.” 

“If you say so.” She replied. “Evening appropriate?” 

“By all means.” He replied. 

“I’ll find something then.” She laughed. 

“Oh, I’m certain you have something.” He said softly. 

“I have something in mind actually.” Anne replied. 

“I’ll see you Friday.” He smiled. 

“See you Friday.” She replied, then sat the phone down. She did have to admit, a weekend in London sounded fabulous. 

\--

Anne’s train departed York at 5:02 pm on Friday, she glanced out the window as the bucolic countryside passed by. She’d told Richard he was different, and he was so different than her other clients. She could not understand what she was feeling for him. She was trying so hard to keep her emotions uninvolved, and it was the most difficult thing she’d ever done. 

When she arrived at the hotel, Anne went to the desk, and picked up the key Richard had left for her. She was not at all surprised to find he’d reserved the penthouse suite in the hotel. 

She glanced around once she was inside the suite, the view from the windows were absolutely to die for. She spent a little time looking out at the London skyline. She unpacked her clothes, and took out the lingerie she’d chosen to wear tonight. It was a lilac halter babydoll with matching panties. Once she’d changed, she sat down to wait for Richard. 

She did not have to wait long at all. She turned as the door opened, and he walked in. 

Richard stopped right in the doorway for a moment, and then closed it. “You are certainly…”

“What?” She laughed softly. 

“Quite a sight.” He grinned. His eyes raked over her body. 

“I suppose you like the lingerie?” She got up and walked over to him. 

“Oh, you have no idea how much I like the lingerie.” He moved towards her. 

“I believe I have an idea, Richard.” She purred. 

Richard slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Amy.” He breathed as her arms went around his waist. He kissed her cheek, kissed along her chin line before moving to the area behind her ear, the one he knew drove her crazy. 

“Richard.” She gasped as he gently nipped at her earlobe. 

“I like that you know.” He murmured. 

“Like what?” Her hands were moving along his back now, and she’d pulled his shirt from his pants. 

“You saying my name.” His lips travelled down her throat. 

“Hmmmmm.” She moaned softly. He was the first client she’d ever called by name, not that she was about to tell him that. Her hands came around and she started to unbutton his shirt. 

His hands slid down to her hips, and he pulled her tightly against him. He’d dreamt of her almost every night he’d been in London. Hazy, sexual dreams, he woke reaching across the bed for her, only to find it empty. He’d sworn each time before getting up to take a cold shower. 

She groaned softly as she felt his hardness press against her. She moved her hands to his belt and started to undo it. 

He moaned as she pushed his pants down, then impatiently pushed them away. Richard let go of her long enough to take his shirt off. 

She ran a nail down his chest, smiling as he shuddered. “Do you know what I am thinking?” 

“Not particularly, but I do hope I am going to like it.” He laughed. 

She laughed softly. “You need not worry, I have no plans to tie you up this weekend, unless you tease me mercilessly.” 

He laughed very softly. “There’s no headboard for you to tie me to.” 

She gently pushed him against the chaise lounge. “If I wanted to tie you up Richard, I would find a way.” 

“You realize the bed is only a few steps away?” He murmured. His hips rose up, as she slipped her hand into his boxes, and her hand gently closed around him. 

“Oh, I do.” She murmured, she pulled his boxers down his hips, and tossed them to the floor. 

He groaned softly, closing his eyes just as she licked her lips. He said her name, as she took him into her mouth. His hands went into her hair, guiding her. “Amy.” He murmured. “Fuck!” He cried as he spilled into her mouth. 

After swallowing, Anne sat up, and looked at him. “Now, I know you are feeling much better now.” She smirked. 

He laughed softly. “Damn right, I am.” He settled back into the chair. “Come here.” He murmured. 

She laughed softly as she climbed up into his lap. She straddled him, as he pulled her close. 

He ran his finger along her halter. “While this is quite beautiful, and it looks great on you, I am dying to see you out of it.” He murmured, as his other hand slipped up under the slip and started to caress her belly. 

She reached up and undid the halter, and let it fall over her breasts. She gasped as his hands immediately went to her breasts, and he started to rub her nipples. 

He lightly squeezed her breasts, watching her reactions, her moans and sighs, the way her hips bucked against his. He bent his head down, taking the nipple into his mouth. 

“Fuck.” Anne moaned, her hands going to his hair, and holding him against her breast. Her hips bucked against his as she fought for control. 

“You know what I think?” He murmured. 

She laughed softly. “I’m certain I know what you’re thinking with, mate.” 

He laughed very softly, it was quite true he was becoming very aroused again. “I think I want you in that bed, underneath me, I want to watch you writhing, and hear you moan, as I take you slowly.” 

She gasped as her feverish mind painted a picture with his words. She wanted that, she wanted him inside her so badly that she ached. She stood slowly, on shaky legs, and pushed down the slip, leaving her only in the tiny panties

Richard took, and took her hand before leading her to the short distance to the bed. He gently pushed her back onto the bed. He moved onto the bed with her, and started to kiss her neck. 

“Richard…” She murmured, as her arms went around him. 

“You feel so good, so warm.” He murmured. 

“I want…” She gasped as his hand moved down her belly. 

“I know exactly what you want.” He murmured, as he slipped her panties off. 

“Please…” She’d never begged before, had never had to, but she wanted him inside her so badly, she would have done anything to have him. 

He got up, and quickly found the condom, and put it on. He returned to the bed, and slowly, gently entered her. He slipped his hands down to her, and entwined their hands together. 

“Richard…” She moaned very softly. 

“Shhhhh.” He murmured, moving slowly within her. “We’re going to take this slowly.” 

She closed her eyes, his slow thrusts inside her, and the gentle movements of his hands over her body were intoxicating. She reached her hands up, and started to caress his chest and back. She brought her legs up, wrapping them around his hips. 

He groaned very softly, thrusting deeper into her body. He’d wanted to make this last, but he was so close now, he just not could resist. He reached his hand down between their bodies, found her clit and started to gently rub it. 

Anne gasped softly. “Fuck….oh yes….” 

“Amy!” He gasped as he felt her walls clench around him. “Oh yes.” 

“Richard!” She cried out his name, the first time she’d called out a man’s name in ecstasy.

He pulled her close against him, kissing her hair, as she lay against his chest. She was still panting, so he wanted for her to speak. 

“Richard?” She raised up to look at him. 

He reached up and gently touched her face. He could see the confusion in her eyes. He pushed himself into a sitting position against the pillows, and pulled her close against him. He tangled his fingers in her hair, and kissed her forehead. 

Anne closed her eyes, allowing Richard to hold her. He’d been so gentle with her. She’d never really wondered what it would be like to fuck a man who loved her. She enjoyed sex for its own sake, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it would feel like to be with a man who loved her?

She lay there for a long time, just enjoying the feel of his arms around her, his body against hers. For once, she did not allow herself to think whether this was wise or not, she just enjoyed the moment. 

When she raised her head from his chest, Richard looked up at her. He’d decided it was best to let Amy decide when she wanted to talk, and when she didn’t. He was not going to pressure her. 

She smiled quizzically at him. “Feed me, mate?” She laughed softly. 

He laughed very softly. “Room service okay?” 

“Sure.” She nodded. “Cheeseburger and fries? No onions.” 

“That sounds good to me.” He nodded. He got up and went to the phone to place the order. He turned to her. “What do you want to drink?” 

She laughed softly. “I’m going to live dangerously and have a Coke.” 

He laughed softly. “What about dessert?” 

She thought for a moment. “Something chocolate.” She stretched not even thinking about how that gave him a wonderful view of her breasts. 

He glanced at her appreciatively as he placed the order. 

Of course, she realized Richard was looking at her. She thought nothing of it though. “I’m just going to freshen up.” She said, before heading into the bathroom. 

By the time she came back, wearing one of the bathrobes, their dinner had arrived. She sat down next to Richard on the sofa. 

“Your cheeseburger.” He grinned, handing the plate to her. 

“Thank you.” She could not help but laugh. 

She glanced over at his plate and then started to laugh. 

“What is so funny?” Richard asked. 

“You squeeze the ketchup over your fries?” She laughed. 

“Yes, I do.” He looked at her quizzically. “What else are you supposed to do?”  
“You dip the fry in the ketchup.” She grinned. 

He laughed very softly. Of course, he’d known that. He’d only wanted to see what she’d say. He reached over, and took a fry from her plate, and then held it to her lips. 

Anne looked up at him, as she ate the fry. “Well then.” She said softly. 

\--

Saturday morning, Anne discovered there was almost no better way to wake up than Richard going down on her. It had been a magnificent way to awaken. After ordering breakfast, she’d ridden him on the sofa in the sitting area. 

She was resting on the sofa, her head in his lap, as he played with her hair. 

“Do you realize something, Amy?” Richard asked softly. 

“What?” She asked. 

“This makes four weekends. We’ve been seeing each other for a month.” He murmured. 

She laughed very softly. “So we have.” 

He twisted a bit of her hair on his finger. “I was thinking we could go out this evening.” 

She looked up. “Where?” 

“Maybe to a show and to dinner?” He said softly. 

“And what if I were to say I’d rather stay here in bed with you?” She said softly. 

He was quiet for a long moment. “Then we do have champagne here.” 

She looked up at him. “I’m sure we can put that to good use.” She laughed softly. 

“What are you thinking?” He said softly. 

She laughed softly. “I’ll have to show you.” She got up and walked over to the mini bar, and quickly found the champagne. 

“Allow me.” Richard took the bottle from her to open it, then poured two glasses. 

Anne took a sip from the glass. “Bed.” She said softly. 

He laughed very softly, following her to bed. 

“Lie back.” She said softly. Once he was lying against the pillows, Anne took her glass of champagne and poured a little bit over his chest. 

Richard could not help but groan as she licked the champagne from his chest. “Two can play at this, Amy.” He groaned softly, pushing her to her back. He reached across her for his champagne glass, he poured just a little bit of it over her breasts, and then leaned down to lick it away. 

She groaned very softly. “You….” 

“The mixture of champagne and you is quite intoxicating.” He murmured. He poured a little more over her belly and then licked it away. 

Anne moaned as his lips went lower, tangled her fingers in his hair to hold him there. 

Later, he lay his head next to hers on the pillow. “You realize we are quite sticky from the champagne.” 

Anne turned her head on the pillow, and laughed softly. “Yes we are.” 

“Shower?” He asked softly, holding his hand out to her. 

After just a moment, she placed her hand in his. “Yes.” 

Once they were in the shower, with the warm water running over them, Richard picked up a loofah and body wash, and started to wash her body. 

Anne closed her eyes, his hands on her body were so warm and gentle, she had no idea what to make of it. Why did he touch her with such reverence? She could not really understand it. 

He gently brushed her hair back. “Your hair too?” He murmured. 

She opened her eyes, and looked up at him. “If you wish.” She said softly. At his direction, she leaned back, letting the warm water wash over her hair. She sighed softly as he started to gently massage the shampoo into her hair. His hands were firm, yet gentle on her scalp. She took a deep breath, what was this he was making her feel? She could not totally understand it. 

Richard gently washed the shampoo from her hair, and then put conditioner on it. He could sense the inner struggle within Amy, and he wrapped his arms around her. He was relieved when she did not pull away. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist. She wanted to bury her head against his chest, and let him hold her. But she couldn’t understand it all. Why was she feeling this way? 

Once he’d rinsed the conditioner from her hair, Richard turned the water off, and when they stepped out of the shower he wrapped her up in the bathrobe, and took her back to the bedroom. 

He took her hand and held it tightly against his chest. “I’m just going to hold you for a bit. Because what’s what you need right now, Amy, you need to be held.” 

As much as she tried to fight it, Anne found herself snuggling against him. She’d not felt this warm or protected in ages. She did not want to think about the other way it made her feel. 

“You’ve never had a real boyfriend have you?” He said softly. 

She looked up at him. “I didn’t come to the service as a virgin, Richard.” 

“No, I didn’t think you had. But what I meant is you’ve never really had a man who desires you for you, who wants to hold you when it’s over, enjoys the way your eyes light up in amusement.” 

She was quiet for a moment. “There were a couple of guys at uni.” 

“Ah, but I’m thinking they only fucked you. You like sex, you need it, you’re a very sensual woman, and you’re wonderful in bed.” He kissed the top of her head. “But you’re not used to sex causing emotions in you, and that’s scaring the hell out of you.” He gently rubbed her back. 

“And if that is true?” Anne murmured. She knew every single word was true, but was not ready to admit that to him. 

“It’s okay to feel.” He murmured. “I’ve got you, I’m not going to let you fall.” 

\--

She woke in the early morning hours of Sunday, and slipped carefully out of Richard’s arms. Her mind was still in turmoil. She had no idea what she was feeling for him, but she knew she was feeling something. She wasn’t certain she’d liked that. 

She took the hotel notepad from the desk, and sat down. A pen was not the normal way she liked to do sketches, she much preferred a pencil, but at the moment a pen was all she had. She glanced over at Richard in the bed, and started to sketch. Richard was so different than most men she’d known. She knew he cared about her, and deep down that frightened her. She’d never sketched one of her clients before, but if she was truthful, Richard was quickly becoming more than a client. 

Once she was finished, she looked down at the sketch, which was not bad for a rough sketch. She slipped it into her bag and went back to the bed. 

She pulled the covers back and slipped back into bed after shedding her robe. As Richard’s hands began a sleepy exploration of her body, she couldn’t help but think there was at least one way he was like every man she’d ever known. He loved to fuck her, and honestly she loved to fuck him. She gave herself up to the familiar ground of sex. 

\--  
They’d taken the same train back to York. Anne had spent most of the journey asleep with her head on his shoulder. The weekend had been quite extraordinary to her. Richard had offered to drive her home, but she had refused saying she could take a taxi. She’d said goodbye to him in the train compartment, joking that he should rest up for next weekend before she left. 

After getting a plate of fish and chips from the small shop beneath her flat, she opened the door and went inside. She sat her bags down in her small bedroom, and sat down on the bed. Even after sleeping the entire way from London to York, she was exhausted. As she ate her dinner, she unpacked her bags. She looked at the sketch, and reached out to gently touch his face. 

She brought her hand up to her mouth to try to stifle the sob, which escaped. She was falling in love with him. She was falling in love with Richard York, and there was fuck all she could do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richard's hotel room in London: http://www.royalgardenhotel.co.uk/Explore-Hotel/Photo-Galleries/Master-Suites  
> (have a look at the photo gallery, there's a few pictures of the room there) 
> 
> Anne's lingerie: https://www.victoriassecret.com/sleepwear/babydolls-and-slips/halter-babydoll-dream-angels?ProductID=5010&CatalogueType=OLS   
> (she wore the tinted lilac one) 
> 
> The dress Anne wore to London, although I didn't really mention this in the story: https://www.victoriassecret.com/clothing/dresses-c/lace-inset-knife-pleat-maxi-dress?ProductID=199855&CatalogueType=OLS


	6. Weekend #5

**Weekend #5**

Anne’s hands shook as she lit the cigarette. It was already her third fag of the past hour, and her third pack of the week. She had quit nearly a decade ago, but the overwhelming avalanche of emotions she’d experienced since the last weekend made it impossible to focus without a little help. Smoking had helped calm her jangling nerves and had been a welcome distraction from all the crying she’d done the past few days. She’d been such a mess she’d even taken a week off from her day job to sort through her feelings. 

Now it was Friday again and she wanted to see Richard so much, but she also could not face him, not when her emotions were this raw. She was frightened by what she felt for him, and worried that it meant the end of all her carefully laid plans for the future. 

_Oh fuck, what have I done?_ In spite of her best efforts, she’d broken the one cardinal rule of being an escort: never fall in love. It was the only piece of advice Nan had given all the Beauchamp girls. Your clients may think they’re in love with you because they mistake your services for real affection, for romance. And once in a while, when a client is especially handsome, especially kind, you will think you are in love too. But it’s not real, it won’t last, and you will lose everything you’ve worked so hard to earn. 

Anne had lived by that mantra for two years now. Half-heartedly, she tried to convince herself that Richard’s affections were not real, that he’d confused fucking her with loving her, and as a result, he’d somehow confused her as well. It was all just a huge mistake. 

But even in her head, the words rang hollow. The thought of not seeing Richard, of not being with him again was unbearable, and the thought of fucking another man, some nameless stranger, made her skin crawl. She felt the bile rise in her throat, acid sharp, and she raced to the toilet and heaved up the contents of her stomach. 

She slept, chased by strange fevered dreams where warm hands caressed her and brought her to completion while other hands, cold and clawed, tried to strangle her. When she woke up, it was in a cold sweat and with the realization that she couldn’t face Richard, not now, not like this. 

Anne sent him a text to explain. _I can’t make it to yours today. Not feeling well. Tomorrow?_

It was twenty minutes before she got a reply. _Are you all right? Can I get you something?_

She began to type “no” but touched by his concern, she changed her mind. _Come to mine_. She sent him the address and then forced herself out of bed. Thinking that routine might help her to calm down, she jumped in the shower and washed the smell of cigarettes and sick off herself. Afterwards, she dressed and sat on the couch to wait for Richard, her knees pulled up to her chest as she tried to keep her emotions in check. 

\--

Richard knocked on the door to her flat, a bag with soup in his hand and a worried frown on his face. He hoped Amy was feeling well, or at least well enough to eat and maybe spend a little time talking. He’d missed her, and surprised himself by missing her voice and her face more than her body. 

The door swung open and he followed Amy into the living room of her tiny flat. 

“I brought soup,” he said, feeling a little stupid. “How are you feeling?” 

She laughed gently and took the bag from him, setting it down on the coffee table behind her. He watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and wondered if she’d ever looked sexier. 

She was clearly not perfect, not like she usually was. Her freshly washed hair was not styled, she wore no makeup and instead of the carefully chosen dresses she usually wore, she had on a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. The problem was the sweatpants hugged the curve of her hips perfectly and without a bra, the t-shirt clung to her breasts, the nipples already hard and straining against the fabric. 

The sight made Richard’s mouth dry and all the words flew out of his head. He gaped at her as she smiled softly and approached him. She put a hand to his chest and looked up at him, bright blue eyes watching him intently. 

“I’m feeling better now. But I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to cuddle. I just want to fuck.” She took his hand and led him behind an ornate screen to her bed. 

“God, Amy,” he growled as he pulled her into his arms. He buried his head in her neck, nuzzling her skin as she pressed closer against him, crushing her chest against his. “Do you know what you do to me?” 

“If it’s anything like what you do to me,” she began. But her voice trailed off on a soft moan when he slid his hands under the t-shirt and caressed her breasts, first one, and then the other. “Richard, I’ve missed you so much.” She lifted up her arms and pulled off the shirt, her breasts bouncing from the effort. He groaned and grabbed them both in his hands, squeezing roughly as he pushed her on to the bed. 

She bounced a little as she landed on the bed with a soft thud. Laughing, she pulled the sweat pants over her hips and squirmed out of them, kicking them off the end of the bed. She held her arms out to him. “Come here.” 

Richard stripped off his clothes and joined her, bringing her legs around his hips and pressing his body to hers. He kissed her chin and trailed his mouth over her cheek, rimming her ear with his tongue. 

Amy giggled. “That tickles, you know.” 

“Does it?” He kissed the side of her neck, her shoulder, then her collarbone. “I could try somewhere else.” 

“Oh?”

“Here?” he said, his hands skimming her sides before coming up to cup her breasts. He ran the pad of his thumb over a nipple before dipping his head and licking it. She gasped and coiled her fingers in his hair. He was already aroused, hard and ready, but wanting more of the same reaction, he went lower, placing feather-light kisses on her belly. In response, she pushed herself against him, grinding herself against his erection, the fingers in his hair tightening in anticipation. 

“Or I think here?” he whispered against her warm skin as his hand drifted lower, dipping between her legs to stroke her clit. Amy gasped, her hips coming off the bed. She tugged at his hair, forcing him to look up. When he caught her eyes, they were dark with desire.

“Please, Richard, not now.” She hissed against him, trying to control herself as his fingers continued with their task. “I just need you to fuck me.”

At that, he growled and coiled an arm around her waist and flipped them over so she was now straddling him. Her eyes were on his, unflinching. In the darkness of the room, he imagined he could see things there, her real thoughts, her emotions, whatever she was willing to show him. There were words in his head, a jumble of noise and feeling, but they stuck in his throat and the most he could do was whisper her name. 

“Richard,” she breathed. “Now.” 

He nodded and keeping one hand on her hip, he scrabbled to find a condom on her night table. But she stilled his hand. 

“No, we don’t need it. Not tonight.”

“But—“

She cut him off with a finger to his lips. “I want to feel you. Just you.”

“Amy,” he said, still in disbelief. This was the first sign—finally!—that she trusted him, that he was not just a client to her anymore. He kept his eyes on her face, afraid to look away, to break the spell. Slowly, very slowly, he brought his hips to her and entered her. 

He reached up and stroked her breasts, pushing into her as gently as possible. She whimpered and tossed her head back, her whole body tense with anticipation. He pressed himself up into her and with each slow thrust, she groaned and dug her nails into his shoulders. 

Amy began to move in time with his thrusts, and with each movement of her hips, she took him in harder and deeper until their hips were slamming together and she was crying out, short gasps of breath that sounded like his name, like curses, like a prayer; he could not tell anymore. 

He let his hands roam over her body, his palms stroking over her breasts, her sides and the flat of her stomach before his fingers slid between her legs again. She gasped as his fingers stroked her clit in time to his thrusts, harder and harder, until she was whimpering in desperate pleasure. 

Amy was still moving over him, her rhythm rough and insistent to match the frantic pace of his fingers. She cried out and her climax burst out from within her, making her shake with pleasure. He could feel her clenching around him and he shuddered, digging his hands into her hips and thrusting wildly into her. He clutched at her and brought his face to her neck, biting down hard on her shoulder as the world exploded behind his eyes and he spilled within her. 

“Oh Richard,” she sighed, rolling off him. She buried her face in his neck and gently kissed his super-heated skin. “Thank you.”

“No,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I should thank you, Amy.” 

He was somewhere in that oddly pleasant limbo between being wide-awake and being contentedly sleepy. He pulled her closer, and as he was about to shut his eyes, he thought he heard her say something. 

“Anne.” Her voice was tiny, almost a whisper. “My name is really Anne.”

\--

Anne waited until he was fast asleep to slip out of bed. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him, her eyes wide with awe. Until he’d actually showed up at her flat, she had not realized how badly she wanted him, how much she’d needed to just be with him. 

The experience had shattered her though. As much sex as she’d had in the past few years, as much as she knew of pleasure, she’d never felt anything like what she’d just felt with Richard. There was a sensation of extreme closeness, of having her thoughts and emotions meld into his, if only for a few seconds. _So this is what it’s like to fuck a man you love_. It was exhilarating but also frightening, and she had no idea what to do. But there was no going back now. 

\-- 

Richard woke up, groggy and disoriented. It took a moment for his brain to catch up and for him to realize where he was. Amy’s flat, her bed. He scratched his head. Was her name even Amy? He had a weird recollection that she’d told him her real name, but he was almost certain he’d dreamed that part. 

Amy herself was nowhere to be found. She was not in bed though her side of the bed was still a little warm. He called out to her, but there was no answer. He sighed and pulled his pants back on before padding out into the rest of her tiny flat. 

He’d been surprised when she’d invited him to her place, but even more surprised she lived above a chip shop. The flat was tiny, barely more than a bedsit with a kitchen and a bath. Amy’s furniture was spare and a bit battered, as if she’d bought them used or inherited them from an old relative. 

He wondered idly why she lived in a place like this. He had no idea what sort of job she had, but she must have made plenty of money as an escort. Was she saving it up for something? Did she have an expensive drug habit to support? His thoughts began to chase themselves around his head in a dizzying way and he decided to abandon them in favor of a cup of tea instead. 

In the kitchen, he discovered the reason Amy was missing. She’d left him a note: 

_My cupboards are just like Mother Hubbard’s. Off to the shops to pick up milk and bread._

Amy had a neat but unusual hand, and he realized with a start he’d never actually seen it before. It was odd that he’d spent so much time with her in the last month, but knew almost nothing about her, nothing real anyway. 

He sat down on a rickety chair at the table and pondered his situation. He was in love with a woman he knew nothing about. What was he supposed to do with that? What if she didn’t love him back? Was there even any future in it? 

Frustrated, he banged a fist on the table and a large sheet of paper fluttered off it and onto the floor. Richard picked it up and turned it around, his eyebrows rising in surprise. It was a half-finished charcoal sketch of a sleeping man. He guessed from the carefully rendered curls in the sketch that it was of him, but he had no idea when Amy had drawn it. He was no expert in art, but he could tell she was talented. The parts of the sketch that were finished showed a practiced hand and clean, confident lines. Was she an artist? How had he not guessed? 

He set the sketch back on the table, aware that he was probably not meant to see it. On impulse, he took a look around the rest of the flat but there was little other evidence that Amy was an artist. Even here, in her private sanctuary, the real woman was not easy to find. 

He sighed and considered going back to bed when he heard the door creak open as Amy let herself in. She’d tied her hair away from her face and was wearing non-descript casual clothing and a bright smile. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully. She stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Had to nip out for milk. I’m dying for a cup of tea. You?” 

Richard laughed and nodded. It was all very domestic, and he had absolutely no intention of complaining.

\--

Anne made them both breakfast, and after they ate, they sat on her sofa, not quite making eye contact or talking. Something between them had changed, that much was obvious. But why was everything suddenly so awkward? Wasn’t the discovery of love supposed to make everything better? Were all the films and novels completely wrong about all that? Why had he not reacted to her telling him her name?

At a loss for words and not practiced at small talk, she abandoned talking in favor of smoking. As she lit up, Richard’s eyes stayed on her face, his scrutiny intense, as if he was trying to see into her. 

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t, not usually. Only when I’m…nervous.” 

“Are you nervous now?” he asked, his voice gentle but probing. 

She wanted to tell him that he was making her nervous, that something had happened between them that had changed everything, that had ruined all her plans. But instead she just shrugged and offered him a cigarette, which he politely declined. 

He pulled a cheap plastic lighter out of his pocket. “Two years smoke-free. I carry this lighter around just to remind myself.” 

“I quit too, years ago.” She reached across the sofa to grab the ashtray, a clay monstrosity she’d made as a birthday present for her father when she was only a teenager. It was meant to look like a Henry Moore sculpture, but had turned into a nondescript yellow blob. She’d hated but her father had cherished it, and now she hung on to it out of nostalgia. 

“I started smoking when I was 16. We all thought it was so cool.” She rolled her eyes at that, making him laugh a little. “I had to quit a year later though. Because of my dad.” 

“He convinced you to stop?” 

She paused, took a long puff and then stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray with near savage force. “No. He died.” 

Richard surprised her then. Most people had a way of responding to death, with a sympathetic cluck of the tongue, with a quickly whispered apology, like their sympathy made everything better. But he said nothing at all. Instead, he watched her in silence, eyebrows knit together in a frown. 

She opened her mouth to talk, but he beat her to it. “My father died too.” 

It was Anne’s turn to watch quietly. She was not sure what to make of the admission, but it was a strange thing for the two of them to have in common. “How?” 

“A car accident. One of my brothers died with him. He was only seventeen.” Richard’s face was all pain, and Anne felt a sudden dull pain in her heart, a well of sympathy she had never experienced before. She said the first clichéd thing that came to her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I just…I don’t talk about it very much.” 

“Yeah, me neither.” On impulse, she took his hand and squeezed it. “But I like that you can share that with me.”

Not wanting silence to fall between them again, she kept the conversation going. “Is your mum still around?” 

He laughed. “Oh, yes. She’s a dragon. Even death is probably afraid of her.” 

She laughed too, but could not keep it going, especially around the sudden lump in her throat. “My mum died too, just two years after my dad. I think it was a broken heart.”

Anne heard his long sigh, but with tears threatening, she turned her face away from his and dropped his hand. He did not try to comfort her. 

Instead, he said the most unexpected thing. “Is that why you’re an…?” 

His voice trailed off and she looked at him in shock. Her first thought was that she should yell at him, lash out at his criticism of her life as an escort, remind him of his own hypocrisy. But there was no judgment in his eyes, only a sort of warm concern. It softened her own feelings, and at length, she answered him. 

“No, Richard. That’s not why.” She did not elaborate and was grateful when he didn’t ask for further explanation. But after a moment, she changed her mind. “Can I show you something?” 

When he nodded, she told him. “Get dressed. It’s going to be a bit of a walk.”

\-- 

Richard followed her down the street, thrilled that she was holding his hand. Except for their weekend holiday, she’d never allowed herself to be seen in public with him. He didn’t know the extent of her feelings, but he could not help but hope now.

They walked for about ten minutes before Amy stopped in front of an old building. From the look of the place, with its red brick façade and the black chimneys rising from the top, it was an old factory or warehouse of some sort. 

“We’re going upstairs, if that’s okay,” she asked as she pushed the main door open. He nodded, and she took his hand to lead him up two narrow flights of rickety stairs. On the top landing, she found a hidden key in a planter and opened the door. 

The place was a revelation. It was a loft flat that took up the entire top floor of the building. Light flooded into the place from huge windows on two sides, brightening up the bare brick walls and the plain wooden beams that crossed the ceiling. 

“Is this yours?” he stammered. “It’s amazing.”

“Not mine, not yet. I was hoping to make a down payment on it, and the owner has been nice enough to hold it for me. He lets me have the key and I store some things here.” Anne seemed suddenly sad, almost desperate. “I need to show you something else.”

She walked him to the other end of the loft and opened a smaller door to a dingy windowless storeroom. She pulled on the piece of string that doubled as a light switch, and dull, yellow light fell on the room. 

There was artwork everywhere. Pencil sketches in cheap frames tacked to the wall, wood-mounted oil canvases propped against the wall, even a couple of abstract woodcuts he did not quite understand.

“Amy?”

“Anne. I told you my name was Anne.”

He nodded, still unsure how he felt about that. It was an odd sensation to be in love with a woman when even her name was a new and unfamiliar thing. 

“Is this all your work?” He took a closer look at one of the large paintings. Her choice of colors and her brush strokes made it look like several paintings overlaid on each other, with each new layer peeled back to reveal just a bit of the work underneath. “It’s brilliant.”

She laughed. “I’ve been painting and drawing since I was very little. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I worked as an art buyer out of uni for a while. But the economy went to shit, the company went tits up and I was out of work. I took this horrible secretarial job because I had to pay rent and feed myself, but I couldn’t afford the art anymore.”

Her voice trailed off as she walked around the room, straightening a picture here and taking a closer look at another there. He realized suddenly what she was trying to tell him. She worked as an escort to support her life as an artist. He marveled at that, and wondered why he’d never asked before. 

“So this place is going to be my prize, my art studio, my haven. I’ve saved every last penny so I can buy it. Nobody would ever give me a loan on my salary. But if I just work at Beauchamp’s for three of four more years…” She did not finish the sentence. Instead, she let out a choked sound and covered her face with her hands, crying. 

“Amy…Anne?” He put a hand to her shoulder, and with a little nudging she came into his arms. She was sobbing now, her shoulders shaking as she cried. He rubbed her back and waited for her to come back to herself. 

It took several minutes, but ultimately, she raised her head and fixed him with her watery blue eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”

\--

Ultimately, inevitably, they ended up back at Anne’s flat and back in bed, their bodies melded together out of an odd mixture of lust and desperation. She had wanted to replace her anxiety with sex, because it was familiar and because she knew what to expect, how to be. He had wanted to comfort her in whatever way she could accept. 

Richard was slow, gentle, and devastatingly thorough. It was as if he wanted to savor every brush of the lips, every stroke of the fingers, every breathy whisper of desire. He was everywhere, inside her and around her, and she could feel him as if he were under her skin, as if he’d somehow melted into her, become a part of her. It was exhilarating and overwhelming, and when she came, Anne could no longer sense the difference between pleasure and pain. 

Later, after they had stroked and caressed each other, and moaned and cried out their climaxes, their limbs tangled together like vines, he kissed her forehead and tried to roll away from her. 

“No, stay with me. Just a little longer.” She slipped her arms under his shoulders and hugged him tightly to her chest. She pushed her hands into hair, tugging at the sweat-dampened curls. “I need you to hold me.” 

He relented and lay back down, still inside her, but careful not to put all his weight on her. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and looked down at her, a smile on his face. 

Quietly, so quietly he could barely hear her, she whispered, “kiss me.” 

To his credit, he did not startle and he did not ask her any questions. Instead, he smiled at her, and brushing the hair off her forehead, he kissed her there. His lips trailed away to kiss her temple, her closed eyelids and the tip of her nose. Finally, he brought his mouth to hers. 

Their first kiss was a gentle brush of his lips over hers, like the touch of a butterfly. She’d waited so long to be held like this, to be kissed with love, that she was pleased he was going so slowly, giving her the chance to savor the experience, to have it burned into her memory. 

His mouth was still against hers, his lips pressing gently against hers to tease her mouth open. This kiss was slow and languid, his lips moving over hers as his fingers gradually trailed from her face down to her neck. He was maddeningly slow and gentle, making her press closer, making her yearn for more. She drew his lower lip into her mouth, and experimentally, ever so carefully, she licked his lower lip. He growled in response and pressed his mouth hard against hers, rimming her teeth with his tongue before he slipped it into her mouth. 

Now their teeth clicked against each other and their tongues tangled together as they kissed long and hard, all their pent up passion and emotion released into that single gesture. Anne groaned and coiled her hands in his hair again, tugging at his head, trying to get closer to him even though there was barely any separation between them. She felt overheated by his touch, by these kisses that were sending her blood screaming into her veins. 

For his part, Richard could not stop kissing her. He kissed her face, the side of her chin, the hollow in her throat, and the underside of each breast. But he always came back to her mouth, wanting to feel her, taste her, devour her. He knew he’d never be closer to her than in this moment and he was going to do whatever he could to prolong it. 

But he was confounded by his own desire. As they kissed and caressed, as their bodies shifted, his ardor grew and soon, he was hard and ready for her. He tangled his fingers in her hair and whispered her name. 

Anne looked up at him and nodded, desire and adoration in her eyes. She wrapped one leg gently around his hip and pulled his head down for a lingering kiss as he pushed slowly into her. He could not help the moan that escaped his mouth when she brought the other leg around him and pulled him deeper inside. 

They were in no hurry. There was no pressing need to end this quickly. For once, they were not on the clock. He took his time, moving gently inside her and setting up a slow steady rhythm until they were both shaking with anticipation. Richard fought for control, his mind warring between wanting to fuck her hard and fast and wanting to cherish the moment, to take it as slowly as possibly so she would feel what he felt, so she would know he loved her. 

He moved deliberately within her, thrusting deep and slow until he could feel her go over the edge. She was gasping for breath, the hands in his hair tugging erratically as she whispered his name. “Richard, Richard…oh!” She whimpered as she came undone, arching her back and writhing against him in ecstasy. His self-control was hanging by a thread now, but as she drew him down and kissed him with almost savage hardness, he felt her clench around him and he was lost. 

He groaned her name, first Amy, and then remembering, he whispered against her neck, “Anne.” He spilled inside her with a sudden erratic thrust as they moved slowly together, riding out their orgasms. 

He kissed her slowly and so tenderly that he thought he heard her sniff back her tears. He broke the kiss and pulled away from her, pushing the hair out of her face and looking at her. It was like seeing her for the very first time. He doubted she knew the true extent of his feelings for her, wondered if she’d ever guess if he didn’t tell her. He kissed her forehead gently and whispered the words. “I love you.”

\--

Anne snuggled against his side, pressing herself as close to him as possible. She was content and fulfilled as she’d never been before, and the anxiety that had threatened all week had receded a little. It was still there, a worry in the back of her mind, pricking her conscience and begging for attention. But for now, all she wanted was to lie in his arms, to feel the steady beat of his heart under her fingers, to hear his gentle, shallow breathing. 

When she was absolutely certain he was asleep, she kissed the round of his shoulder gently and spoke against his warm skin. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's one view of the artist's loft Anne was hoping to buy: 
> 
> http://www.gregwilson.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/Loft-Studios-London.jpg


	7. Weekend # 6

Weekend #6

Richard tapped his pen against the desk as he looked at the computer screen. The last six weeks had flown by, probably faster than any six week period of his life. He could not believe his allotted time with Amy was over. _Anne, her name was Anne, and that was taking some getting used to._ He understood why she used a pseudonym for work purposes, and he couldn’t help but think it was a good sign that she’d told him her real name. 

There was another thing he thought to be a good sign. He was more than certain, she’d thought him to be asleep when she’d whispered the words. He’d been right on the edge of sleep though, and he did not think his mind had made it up. No, she’d clearly confessed, even if it was only to herself, that she loved him. He couldn’t help but acknowledge the hope those three little words gave him. 

He wanted to get something for Anne, something special. He moved the cursor on the screen, and looked at the necklace. Yes, she would likely find it extravagant, if she found out the cost. He would need to make certain she did not find out the cost. He intended for her to accept the gift. He clicked the link, and quickly typed in his credit card information. It would be delivered to his home the next day. Now, all he needed to do was find an appropriate box for the necklace. One that would ensure Anne did not realize he’d spent forty thousand pounds on a necklace. 

He picked up his phone, and pulled up the contact information for Anne. It still read Amy in his phone, he’d not thought of changing it yet. He couldn’t help but think he should change it though, after all he was certain he would not be deleting it after this weekend. He pushed the button to dial her. 

Anne reached for her work phone, and glanced at it before answering. It was Richard, of course. She could not say she was surprised by his call. “Hello, you.” She answered. 

Richard laughed softly. “Hello, yourself.”

“How are you?” She asked. 

“I am well.” He replied. “I’ve been thinking.” 

Anne laughed softly. “Now isn’t that just a little dangerous?” She grinned to herself. She couldn’t help but find him so incredibly easy to tease.  
“Anne!” He held the phone out for a moment, and looked at it. He could still hear her rich laughter. “I am trying to be serious here.” 

Anne fought to quiet her laughter. “Then I will endeavor to try to stop laughing.” She took a deep breath. “Alright, what have you been thinking?”

“How does staying in this weekend sound to you?” He asked. 

There was no hesitation in her answer. “That sounds fine to me.” 

“Wonderful.” He grinned. “I’ll see you Friday.” 

“Richard…” She’d never done this before, and the words were out of her mouth before she could even think. “If you want to come pick me up on Friday, that would be fine.” 

“I’d be very happy to. What time?” He asked. 

“How does five sound?” She asked, biting her lip as she realized what she was doing. 

“I’ll see you then.” He replied. 

“Actually….Richard if you wanted to come over now, I wouldn’t say no.” Anne shocked herself by saying it. But it was true, she certainly would not refuse him. 

“Give me about an hour, and I’ll be there.” He replied. 

“I’ll see you then.” She smiled. 

\--

After sitting her phone down, Anne immediately went to take a very quick shower. She smirked to herself, as she took out a white lingerie set with black flowers. It tied under her breasts, and left her belly exposed. She was quite certain it would drive Richard mad. She’d always enjoyed the power lingerie gave her. It felt different now, she was wearing this for a man she loved, and he loved her back. She didn’t truly have the time to analyze her feelings, at least not at the moment. She just knew she wanted to drive him mad, make him crazy with desire for her. 

Richard climbed the stairs to Anne’s flat, and knocked on the door. He couldn’t help but think it was good she was letting him come over in the middle of the week. Perhaps they could talk a bit first. There was no doubt in his mind they would soon end up in bed. 

All Richard’s good intentions of talking first, faded away the moment Anne opened the door. He was certain he stared at her dumbfounded for a moment, before going into the flat. 

“Good lord.” He breathed, pulling her close. “Are you trying to kill me?” 

She laughed very softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “From your reaction, I’m thinking you like this?” 

“Bloody hell, you damn well knew I would!” He exclaimed, just before kissing her. He’d not stopped to think of her prohibition against kisses, after all they’d kissed last weekend. 

Anne moaned softly, her fingers raking through his hair as they kissed. Richard was a good kisser, just as he was good at everything else. She’d not realized until they’d kissed, over the weekend, how starved she was for the affection which could be symbolized by kissing. 

He kissed her cheek before moving to kiss her chin. “I had all these good intentions of talking, but now…”

“Your thoughts are controlled by something lower than your brain.” Anne laughed. 

He groaned very softly, pulling her hips against his. “What do you think?” He murmured. 

“I think I am exactly right.” She laughed. She closed her eyes, and kissed him. 

“I am beginning to wonder if we’re going to make it to bed.” He groaned, as she started to unbutton his shirt. His hands slipped to the smooth, soft skin of her waist. 

Anne sighed softly as he stroked her sides. “If we’ve made it to the bed at your place, I do believe we can make it the short distance to the bed here.” 

“You do have a point.” He murmured. 

By the time, they’d made it to the bed, Richard had untied the babydoll, and was slipping it from her shoulders. “God, your breasts…” He breathed. 

“Yes, I know you’re quite appreciative of them.” Anne laughed. She gasped as his thumb brushed over her nipple. 

“And if you think that appreciation will ever end, then you’re very wrong.” He murmured, as he pushed her gently back onto the bed. 

She pulled him to her, after he’d removed his shirt and jeans. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as they kissed. She ran her hands down his back to his buttocks, as he cupped and kissed her breasts. 

“Anne…” He breathed, as his hands roamed down her body, and slipped inside the tiny panties she still wore. He slipped a finger inside, and groaned as he felt her wetness. 

She kissed his neck. “I want to feel you inside me. Now.” 

He swiftly pulled the panties down her legs, and his own boxers had soon joined them on the floor. “Condom?” He asked, remembering she’d not wanted to use them over the weekend. 

“No.” Anne shook her head. “I want to feel you, only you.” 

He took her hands in his, and then slowly started to slip inside. He kept his eyes on hers, watching the expressions on her face. 

“Richard.” She moaned softly, as she brought her legs up around his hips and arched her body up against his. 

He groaned, as he started to thrust faster. He’d wanted to have more control, had wanted to make it last longer, but he’d absolutely lost every bit of control he had. 

Anne’s movements were perfectly in time with his thrusts. She moaned as his fingers slipped between their bodies, and he found her clit. “Richard...oh….” 

“Anne…” He murmured, against her ear. He felt her clench around him, and then spilled inside her. 

She closed her eyes, acknowledging to herself that she felt so much better now. The anxiety, which had come in waves since he’d left on Sunday, was gone. “No, don’t move yet.” She murmured, as he started to pull away. 

He wrapped his arms, tightly around Anne, and rolled onto his back, pulling her gently on top of him. “How’s that?” 

She kissed his chest, as she snuggled against him. “Definitely better.” 

He gently brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. “Close your eyes.” He murmured. 

She smiled against him. “Trying to boss me now?” She teased. 

He laughed softly. “I think any man who would try to boss you is an idiot, and as I do not count myself amongst the idiots of this world, no.” 

She could not help but laugh at his words. “You are more than right.” 

“What I do think, is you seem tired.” He murmured against her hair. 

She sighed softly, not able to deny it. She’d not slept all that well since the last time she’d slept next to him. 

“Rest.” Richard said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Anne closed her eyes, letting sleep overtake her. 

Richard could not help but think this was unusual. It had always seemed he would be the one to fall asleep, while she lay awake. He could not help but watch her as she slept. She was beautiful, peaceful in sleep. He brushed her hair back, smiling as she snuggled closer to him. 

\--

It was the insistent buzzing of the alarm clock which had awakened both of them the next morning. Anne groped blindly for her nightstand to turn it off. 

“Is that set for when you have to get up, or do you have snooze time?” Richard muttered sleepily. 

“For when I have to get up.” Anne said just as sleepily. 

Richard opened a bleary eye and looked up at her. “I don’t suppose you could be talked into playing hookey today?” 

Anne could not help but laugh as she acknowledged to herself, if she’d not taken last week off from work, he probably could have talked her into it. “We are not all multi-millionaires.” She said playfully. 

“Touche.” He muttered. He opened his eyes and looked over at her. “Shower then?”

To say her shower was smaller than the one they’d shared in the London hotel room, would have been a massive understatement. However, Anne still found Richard washing her hair to be just as pleasurable as it had been then. After they’d toweled and dressed, Anne quickly packed her lunch for the day, a cheap frozen meal. Although he’d said nothing, she’d noticed Richard’s slight frown as she’d packed it, but she’d decided to ignore it. 

Richard wrapped his arms around her. “I can come over tonight, if you want.” 

After just a moment’s hesitation, Anne shook her head. “No, it’s probably best we wait until Friday.” 

He nodded. “If that’s what you want.” 

She looked up. “Yes.” She said softly. She needed the little bit of space to protect herself, to decide exactly how she was going to handle the situation. She sighed softly, as his hand gently stroked her side for a moment. 

Richard grinned, and gently kissed her. “Then I will see you on Friday. 

\--

Anne rushed home from work on Friday afternoon. She had only about half an hour to get ready before Richard came to pick her up. She quickly changed from her work clothes into a pair of jeans and a soft t-shirt. She didn’t feel the need to dress up for Richard, not this weekend at least. 

It was at five, promptly, when she heard the knock at her door. She went to the door and opened it. “Hello, you.” She grinned. 

“Hello, yourself.” Richard grinned. “You keep me on my toes.” 

“And just how do I do that, mate?” Anne asked. 

He laughed softly. “I never know what to expect from you. A sexy, little black dress, lingerie, now jeans and a t-shirt.” He pulled her close. “Tell me, which one is the real you, Anne?”

Anne wrapped her arms around him and took a deep breath. “All of those, they’re all a part of the real me.” 

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I like all of it.” He said softly. 

Anne smiled softly. ‘I do believe you’ve told me that before.” 

He tipped her chin up and gently kissed her. She groaned very softly, moving closer against him. 

“Richard….” She murmured. She pulled back after a moment. “Unless you are wanting to stay here for the weekend, I would suggest you stop.” 

He laughed softly. “Are you saying you want to go to my place?”

“Yes.” She said simply. 

He laughed softly, brushing her hair back. “You just want to spend time in my bathroom.” 

“You’re right. I love that place.” Anne laughed softly. 

He kissed her forehead. “Where are your bags?”

“Over there.” She responded. 

Richard went and picked them up. “I’ll carry them for you.” 

“You don’t have…” She started to say, but her words were stopped when Richard placed his fingers against her mouth. 

“I want to.” He said softly. 

\--

Anne glanced over as Richard turned on the car radio. She could not help but laugh. This was definitely not the music she’d expected from him. 

“What is so funny?” He asked. 

“This was not the music I expected you to play.” She laughed. 

Richard laughed. He couldn’t help but think she had a wonderful laugh, especially when she was clearly deeply amused as she was now. “What did you expect?”

She shrugged. “I certainly did not expect early 2000’s pop music.” 

He shook his head. “So I gathered. But what did you expect, Anne?”

“I don’t know, Mumford and Sons.” She laughed. 

“Ah well, I do like them.” He admitted. 

“See, I was right!” She laughed. 

“But it’s not want to I want to listen to right now.” He replied. 

“So it’s not.” Anne glanced over at him, and then placed her hand against his thigh. 

“You realize I am driving.” He said softly. 

“I do realize that, Richard.” 

“And that I would like to be able to walk once we reach the house.” 

Anne laughed softly. “You’ll be able to walk.” 

Richard reached for her hand, and twined their fingers together. 

\--

They’d stopped to pick up dinner along the way. Chinese, and Richard had teased Anne over her choice of Kung Pao Chicken. They’d stepped into the kitchen, putting the leftovers away. Richard thought it all felt domestic, and he liked it. He found himself reluctant to say anything to Anne though. 

After six weeks, he felt as if he knew her, at least a little. He did not believe she would like to hear how domestic it was to be putting away leftovers in the kitchen. While he knew she loved him, he had little to no idea how she was reacting to that revelation. It was one of the things he hoped to learn this weekend. 

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling Anne gently back against him, and kissing her neck. 

“Ah, so you’re ready to start the real activities of this weekend.” Anne murmured. 

“Maybe I like holding and kissing you.” Which was more than true. 

Anne laughed softly, closing her eyes. She knew he liked to hold and kiss her. He’d always liked that, even from the first weekend. He’d wanted more than just a casual fuck, and that was why she was in so deep. That wasn’t something she was ready to think about though. The consequences were still overwhelming. She would need to face it, before the weekend was over, but it did not mean she had to face it this very second. 

She turned in Richard’s arms and looked up at him. “So why don’t you kiss me?” She murmured. 

Richard cupped her face, gently pushing her hair back. He started by kissing her forehead, then her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her chin, before finally kissing her lips. It was a slow gentle kiss, and by the way she pressed her body into his, Richard knew it was not what she was in the mood for. He pulled her closer, his hands moving gently down her sides. 

Anne had never really known what it meant to become lost in someone’s kiss. She so easily lost herself in Richard’s kisses though. There was nothing on her mind now, but the feel of his lips against hers, his tongue in her mouth, her tongue in his. She wanted nothing more than to be naked with him, to feel him inside her. She’d never wanted anything more in her life. She wanted time to stand still and for this weekend to never end. 

She pulled his shirt from his pants, her fingers impatiently unbuttoning the shirt. She laughed softly as one of the buttons popped off. 

“You’re impatient.” Richard murmured, as his hands slipped under her shirt. 

“I want you.” She whispered. 

“I can tell.” He said softly, as his fingers encountered something abnormal, at least for Anne. “You’re wearing a bra.” He laughed. 

She laughed very softly. “I might have forgotten to remove it as I was in such a rush to get ready this afternoon.” 

He laughed very softly, as he cupped her breasts. “I don’t know. That feels very lacy, are you saying you wear incredibly, sexy, lacy bras to your day job?”

Anne laughed very softly. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

He groaned very softly. He needed to take her upstairs now. “I want you.” He whispered. 

“Yes, I can feel that.” She pressed her hips against his, smiling at his groan. 

“You are absolutely going to be the death of me.” He murmured. 

“What a way to go.” She murmured, laughing softly. 

He took her hand, pulling her out of the kitchen. As they walked to the bedroom, they stopped from time to time to kiss, to remove clothing. His shirt was forgotten in the dining room, her shirt on the stairs. He sat her on the bed, and knelt in front of her. He buried his head against her chest, kissing her lace covered breasts. 

She moaned softly, pushing her hands into his curls to hold him there. “Richard…” She moaned. 

He stroked his hands up her back, finding her bra clasp, and easily undid it. He gently pulled the bra off, and groaned softly as his hands cupped her breasts. 

“You’re thinking it’s a damn shame to keep them enclosed in a bra.” Anne laughed softly. 

He looked up at her. “I’m thinking they’re damn sexy with or without the bra.” 

“You prefer without.” 

“I am a man.” He laughed softly, gently pushing her back on the bed. 

\--

Saturday morning, Anne opened her eyes. The sun was starting to come up, and clearly she’d not gotten her wish for time to stand still. She glanced over at Richard, who was still sleeping soundly. She wanted to touch him, to push the unruly curls back from his face, but she also did not want to wake him, not yet. 

She loved him. She’d admitted that to herself over the last weekend, whatever love meant that was what she felt for him. She was certain of that, the problem was she wasn’t truly certain what love meant. If it meant wanting to be with him all the time, she certainly wanted that. Letting him come to her flat midweek had proven that to her. 

She’d googled him after he’d been at her flat midweek. She’d not found much, had not expected to find much about his business associates, but she’d found his last serious girlfriend. A posh girl, with money, certainly not a girl from working class Manchester, not a girl who worked as an escort. 

She loved him. Sometimes when you loved someone though, you had to do what was best for that person. In this case, that meant she had to let him go. She was an escort, with clients booked for the next twelve weeks. No matter how much the idea of fucking one of them was revolting to her right now, she knew what she had to do. She had to end things with Richard. She saw no other way. 

This weekend though, it was not for Amy and her client, Richard. No, it was for Anne and the man she’d fallen in love with, it was for Anne and Richard. 

\--

Richard glanced at Anne, as they were eating the leftover Chinese for lunch. The morning had been quite adventurous, and Anne had continued her love affair with his bathroom. He was not certain he’d ever had as much fun in the bathroom. 

“You’re staring.” Anne smiled as she tucked her damp hair behind her ear. 

“I have something for you, actually.” 

She smiled. “And what might that be?”

He smiled. “You’ll see. Just stay here.” He leaned down and kissed her before leaving the dining room. 

Anne turned and watched him for a moment, wondering what exactly he was up to. 

“Close your eyes.” Richard said softly as he came back into the room. 

“They’re closed.” Anne replied. 

He walked over and placed the jewelry box in front of her. He kissed the top of her head. “You may open them now.” 

She opened her eyes, and saw the nondescript jewelry box in front of her. “Jewelry?” She laughed softly. 

“Open it.” Richard said softly. 

She opened it, and found a beautiful diamond and enamel necklace. She immediately looked up questioningly at Richard. 

“They’re cubic zirconia.” He said immediately, hoping she would believe him. “I found it at a shop.” 

“What shop?” She asked. 

“Marks and Spencer.” He said quickly. 

Anne looked up at him, wondering if he’d ever been in a Marks and Spencer in his life. She found it doubtful. He probably had a personal assistant who bought everything for him. Of course, she couldn’t see him sending the personal assistant to Marks and Spencer for jewelry, the mere thought made her want to laugh. In truth, he had such a puppy dog face, and she did not want to hurt him more than she would have to. “It’s beautiful.” She said softly. “Thank you.” 

“You’re quite welcome.” He said softly. “Let me put it on you?”

She nodded, and moved her hair to the side for him to fasten the necklace. She smiled and looked up as he finished. “Does it look like you thought it would?”

He smiled softly. “Beautiful, just as I’d imagined.” He brushed his fingers against it. 

Anne looked up at him, and smiled. “I have an idea.” 

He blinked. “Why does that scare me?” 

She laughed softly. “No idea why it would.” She grinned. “You’ve imagined me wearing this necklace, right?”

“Yes.” He nodded. 

“And if I know you, I’ve not been wearing much else in your imagination.” 

His eyes darkened. “Nothing else.” 

She laughed softly, running her hand along his chest. “That’s what I thought. And we can definitely do that.”

“Or we can talk.” He said softly. 

“Talk?” She said softly. She was definitely not ready for that. “We can talk tomorrow.” 

Richard watched Anne closely for a moment. There had to be something she was holding back. “Tomorrow?” 

“Yes, we’ll talk tomorrow. This weekend, it’s not about...it’s about us.” She said very softly. “It’s about Richard and Anne. 

Us. She’d admitted there was something between them, and Richard could not have been happier. She’d admitted it when she’d known he would hear it, and would not mistake it. “Upstairs then?” He said softly. 

“Oh yes.” She nodded. 

\--  
It was the early morning hours of Sunday, and Anne had awakened. She’d tried to go back to sleep, but there was so much on her mind. The time was moving much too fast for her, although she knew it was moving normally. She did not want the weekend to end, she did not want Sunday afternoon to come. It would though, in a few hours the sun would rise, and a few hours after that it would be the afternoon. She and Richard would have to talk then. There was no getting around it. 

She knew him, knew he had to be thinking there was a way they could be together. But she would not see it. She could not find a way to stay with him. Not at all. They were too different, they inhabited different worlds, and she had obligations. No matter how much she did not want to think of them. She still had her dreams, her plans. 

She’d gone to the loft on Thursday, to remind herself of what she was really doing. She could not quit now. Three or four more years at Beauchamp’s and she’d have the money for her dream. 

It never entered her mind, that Richard would have probably gladly bought the loft for her. 

\--

Richard could not help but notice how nervous Anne seemed to be on Sunday morning. He’d made breakfast for them, they’d put the dishes away, and now she seemed to be lost in thought. 

“Hey.” He said softly, sitting down next to her. 

She looked over and smiled just a bit. “Hey.” 

“Do you want to go ahead and talk? I imagine that’s what has you nervous.” 

She looked up. “Do I want to talk?” She laughed softly. “Doubtful. Do we need to talk? The answer to that is yes.” 

“Then we should talk.” He said softly. “I think we both probably have a lot to say.” 

Anne was quiet for a moment. “You remember the first weekend, that I told you this is not Pretty Woman.” 

He laughed softly. “Yes, I do remember that.” 

“This still is not Pretty Woman, Richard.” She said softly. “It’s real life, and real life is not as tidy as a Hollywood ending.” 

“What are you saying, Anne?” He took a deep breath. 

“Whatever Hollywood, happy ending you have in mind for us. It’s not going to work.” She said softly. 

“What do you think I have in mind?” He asked. 

“You tell me.” She said softly. 

“You and I.” He said softly. “A relationship. You know that I love you.” 

“Yes, I do.” Anne said very softly. That was what made this so difficult. He loved her, or at least believed he did. She loved him, or at least she thought she did. 

“And I know you love me.” He said softly. 

Her eyes grew wide for a moment. “You heard me that night?”

“I wasn’t as asleep as you’d thought.” He said softly. “So yes, I did.” 

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. “I do love you.” 

“And I love you.” He said softly. 

“And you think that’s enough, don’t you?” She said softly. 

“Shouldn’t it be?” He said softly. 

She was quiet for a moment. “In an ideal world, yes it would be.” 

“But in our world?” Richard said softly. 

“We don’t live in an ideal world, Richard.” She said softly. “Our worlds are too different. You’re a prominent businessman. I am an escort.” 

“You can stop.” He said softly. “You can….”

She closed her eyes. She wasn’t angry with him, not at all. That surprised her. “That’s the Hollywood ending, not the real world.” She said softly. 

“It can be the real world.” He said softly. 

She shook her head. “No.” She said softly. “It cannot. I am an escort. I have a plan, dreams, and I…” She stood and walked around the room. 

Richard was silent, just watching her. He wanted to just wrap his arms around her, tell her that everything would be okay. He believed it would be. He believed they could be together. Why couldn’t she see that? 

She turned and looked at him. “You know what the cardinal rule of being as escort is?” 

“What?” He asked. 

“Never fall in love with your client.” She said softly. “And what have I done? I’ve fallen in love with you.” She turned to look at him. “But the thing is, Richard, sometimes love isn’t enough.” 

“You don’t know that it’s not enough for us.” He said softly. 

“I know we are from two different worlds.” She said softly. “I am working class Manchester, you’re a wealthy business man.” 

“That does not mean we cannot be together.” He said softly. 

Anne took a deep breath. “You know another thing?” She asked softly. “I truly have no idea what love is. I’ve never been in love before, lust yes, but not love. And if I’m being truthful, I don’t know if this is more than lust.” 

“You know it’s more.” He said very softly. 

She closed her eyes. “Richard….” She said softly. “I can’t do this.”

“Anne…” He stood, going over to her. 

“Don’t argue with me.” She said softly. “I know what I have to do, please don’t make it any more difficult than it already is.” 

He took a deep breath. “This is what you want?” If you loved someone, you would do what was best for that person. He did not think this was best for Anne, but arguing with her over that perhaps that was not for the best at all. 

“It’s what I have to do.” She said softly. “I have to….I have weekends booked.” She tried so hard not to show her revulsion at the idea. 

Richard caught that revulsion though. “Why don’t we make a deal?” 

“What’s that?” She asked softly. 

“If we meet again, and we’re both free...then we’ll try.” He said softly. 

Anne closed her eyes. “I’ll agree.” She never thought it would happen. 

\--

It was midafternoon, Anne was packing her bags to go home. Richard had left her alone for a bit, sensing she needed some time to herself. She picked up the jewelry box, which held the necklace and placed it into her bags. 

“Anne.” He said softly. 

She wiped her face before turning. hoping he’d say nothing about her tears. She did not want to talk about them. 

He took a deep breath, as he realized she’d been crying. Why was she such a stubborn woman? But then again would she be the woman he’d fallen for if she was not? “Come here.” He said softly. 

She sat her bag down and moved over to him. Her eyebrows raised in question. 

“I think that if we’re going to say goodbye then we should do it in a way that’s true to us.” He said softly, as he gently stroked her face. 

She laughed very softly. “You mean you want to fuck one more time.” 

He shook his head, and pulled her close. “I mean I want to make love to you.” He bent his head and kissed her. 

She groaned very softly, as his hands wandered all over her body. She was certain they’d never undressed each other faster. When he placed her on the bed, she pulled him down with her. “I want to feel you.” She whispered. “Now.” 

Richard stroked her hair back. He’d wanted to take this slow, to make it last, but it seemed neither of their passions would allow that. He groaned as her arms and legs wrapped around him. 

“Please…” She murmured. 

He groaned softly, entering her swiftly. “Anne…” He murmured, as his hands went to her breasts. 

“Oh yes, yes!” She cried, arching up against him. “You feel…” She tried to keep up with the fast pace he set but found it almost impossible. 

He kissed her neck, sucking gently at her skin. He knew he was close, and his fingers moved to her clit. 

“Richard!” She cried out. “Oh yes!” 

“Anne!” He cried out as he spilled inside her. 

“Don’t move yet.” She whispered as he started to move. 

Richard wrapped his arms around her tightly, rolling onto his back and holding her close. His hands moved gently against her back. He wanted to just hold her forever. 

Anne closed her eyes, snuggling close. She wanted to just stay there in his arms. Forget about the future, forget that the weekend was almost at an end. 

\--  
Anne was quiet for most of their drive back into York. She’d offered to call a taxi for herself, but had been relieved when Richard had refused. She’d wanted that last hour with him, and from the way he held her hand she imagined he’d wanted that last hour with her. 

“You can’t just say….I don’t want to do this anymore?” He asked softly. 

Anne turned to look at him. She’d expected this question had honestly been surprised he’d not asked it earlier. “I have signed contracts, and to break them I’d pay a penalty.” She said softly, then she squeezed his hand. “I’ll be fine.” She’d been telling herself that all week. She wasn’t any closer to believing it. 

He was quiet, wondering to himself if perhaps he could buy the contracts out. He wouldn’t say anything, in case he couldn’t. “Of course.” He said softly, finally answering her after several moments of silence. 

It was not long until they’d arrived at her little flat. “We’re here.” He said very softly. 

“So we are.” She murmured. 

“Are you going to get a plate from the shop below?” He asked. 

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.” 

“Hmmm.” He nodded. How was he supposed to do this? Say goodbye to her. 

She turned and gently kissed him. “This is it.” She said softly. “The end.” 

“Anne…” He said very softly. 

She shook her head. “You’re a good man, Richard York. Some woman is going to be very lucky someday.” 

“And you’re a good woman, Anne…” He realized then he didn’t know her last name. 

She laughed softly. “Neville.” She touched his face, one last time. “My last name is Neville, love.” She turned and got out of the car. She didn’t look back, had no idea Richard sat there until the lights were turned on in her tiny flat. Even if she had looked out, she would not have been able to see it through her tears. 

\--

On Monday, Anne called off from work, pleading a migraine. Her head was hurting, from all the tears she’d shed. Against her better judgement, she called Nan Beauchamp, wondering perhaps if she could get out of her contracts. It was as she’d thought, she couldn’t. Nan had suggested she concentrate on the ways she usually made herself ready for a client. She kept her manicure and hair stylist booked for Thursday.

\--

On Tuesday, Richard contacted Nan Beauchamp, to ask how much it would cost to buy out Anne’s remaining contracts. He did not care how much it cost he would do it for her. Nan had responded she would get back to him. When she’d contacted him back Wednesday evening, the price was more than what he’d paid for Anne’s company, but again he did not care. He transferred the money to Nan the next day. 

He wouldn’t tell Anne what he’d done. He had no idea how she would react to it. He did not think it would be a good reaction though. 

If they were meant to be, and he believed they were, then they would find their way back to each other. 

\--  
It was Thursday evening, Anne had just gotten home from her manicure and hair appointment, when her work phone rang. She was surprised to see it was Nan Beauchamp, and was certain the surprise was evident in her voice. 

“Anne.” Nan said sweetly. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and if you no longer want to work for me, then you don’t have to do these last two clients.” 

“I don’t?” Anne asked, shocked. “How much am I going to owe you?” 

“Nothing, this is from the kindness of my heart.” Nan replied. “I do hope everything goes well for you.” 

“Thank you.” Anne said, feeling completely astonished. She disconnected the call, and stared at the phone. She was free. Her weekends were hers again. She had no idea what she was going to do. 

She did not even think of calling Richard. After all her true reasons had not changed. She was still a working class girl from Manchester, who was now a former escort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The necklace Richard bought for Anne: http://www.bentley-skinner.co.uk/catalog/products/19530-a-fine-diamond-and-black-enamel-necklace
> 
> The lingerie she was wearing at her flat: https://www.victoriassecret.com/sleepwear/lingerie/floral-babydoll-very-sexy?ProductID=5354&CatalogueType=OLS
> 
> (And this part is from Chelle) My apologies for this taking so long to complete. I am someone who has to be in the mood to write a particular fic, and just as I was in the midst of writing this a very dear friend of mine passed away. I needed to write something else, something that was completely happy before getting back into writing this one.


	8. Epilogue: Christmas

Christmas

Richard took his date’s coat and gave her his arm. She smiled up at him, bright-eyed and pink-cheeked. “Shall we?” she said, and he nodded and led her into the ballroom.

They were at a wedding, and aside from Christmas dinner at his mother’s, it was his least favorite sort of social event. Weddings reeked of false cheer and barely disguised desperation, and he was not a big fan of either emotion. The fact that he’d never had a wedding of his own didn’t particularly help the situation.

He’d been close once or twice, of course. There was Kate so many years ago and now Anne. _Anne…_

It had been six months since he’d seen her, but he still felt the wrenching pain of splitting up with her. He’d been too busy at work to process everything that had happened, but with time, he’d come to the conclusion that ending things with Anne had been for the best.

After all, nothing about their relationship had been normal. They’d met in strange circumstances, and—he couldn’t even imagine he was thinking this—they’d had altogether too much sex, or at least more than any normal couple would. He had no complaints with either the quantity or the quality, but sex tended to mask real emotion and make everything more intense than it would otherwise have been. 

But he could see things more clearly though. He’d fallen hard for her and he’d missed her terribly. Once or twice, he’d considered calling her or even dropping by her flat, but she’d wanted a clean break and he’d liked her enough—loved her enough—to keep his distance. In hindsight, he could see she’d been right all along. It was one thing to be in love, but to pursue a relationship where they barely knew each other seemed silly, even foolhardy.

Still, he was not quite ready to wade back into the dating cesspool just yet, and needing a companion for this wedding, he’d leaned on someone he’d known for a long time. Indeed, he’d been relieved when she’d agreed to come up from London just for the wedding.

He patted her hand gently. “Thank you for coming. I appreciate the effort.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, “but you really need to cheer up. It’s not every day that a pretty girl will go on a pity date with her own uncle.”

“You really know how to boost a man’s self confidence, Cecily.”

She laughed and he joined in, liking her immensely. She was by far his favorite niece, clever and sensible. She was also surprisingly down-to-earth which made her a bit of an oddity in her own social circles, and a bit of a misfit at home. He wondered if that’s why she spent so much of her time with him.

“It was a lovely ceremony in the church, don’t you think?”

“Yes, just lovely.”

She laughed again. “Oh, don’t make that face, Uncle Dickon. It makes you look like Scrooge.” She swatted his elbow gently. “You’re the Scrooge of weddings, aren’t you?”

“At your service,” he said, mock-bowing to her as they were led to their table. He and Cecily kept up the banter through most of dinner and the endless round of toasts to the happy couple. But as the band began to play and people made their way to the dance floor, two-by-two, like a Noah’s Ark of sex and music, Richard’s good mood faded.

Cecily nudged him. “Listen. I know you don’t dance, but I’d like to go find some nice bloke to spin me around the floor. Is that alright?”

“Of course.” He smirked at her. “I’m not your father, so you don’t need my permission. But just send me a text, so I know what you’re up to.”

“You got it.” She stood and gingerly moved the long skirt of her dress out of the way, but as she straightened up, she swore loudly.

“Cecily!” he warned, slightly appalled that others at their table had heard her.

“Look! That woman over there. She has the same dress as me!” Cecily said this more dramatically than the situation really warranted. “I mean, mine’s Elie Saab and hers is probably some horrid knockoff, but still.”

Richard chuckled at this sudden breach of fashionista etiquette. “Does this mean you can’t be seen in public? You have to wear a sack over your head or something?”

“No. I just can’t be seen near her, or everyone will notice.”

Richard followed the direction of Cecily’s gaze until it fell on a woman with short dark hair in a dark blue evening gown. She seemed oddly familiar and when she laughed and turned around, he realized just why.

It was Anne.

\--

She’d not returned to Manchester since her mother had died years ago. But she liked her cousin well enough to come to the wedding. In truth, she probably still would have come even if she’d still been working as escort. 

For the first month, Anne had no idea what to do now that her weekends were free. The first weekend, she slept most of Saturday, that was after drinking a lot on Friday night because she was still an emotional wreck after ending things with Richard. In those early weeks, there had been several times she’d almost called him. She’d even put his number in her real phone, and had even pulled up his contact information a time or two. In the end though, she’d stayed strong. Nothing had changed. 

There were many times, she missed him more than she was willing to admit. Her head still believed what they’d had could not have been real. her heart though, it rebelled against the pragmatism. But she’d listened to her head in the end, as she always did. 

She was family, so she’d managed not to bring a date to the wedding. However, she was certain her cousin wanted to fix her up with one of the groom’s friends. She wasn’t certain what she thought about it. After all, she still lived in York, and this man lived in Manchester. It wasn’t an impossible distance, at least it wouldn’t be if she were committed to the relationship. 

The truth was, she’d never truly had a relationship. She was 26 years old, and she’d never truly had a relationship. Oh, she’d had plenty of sex, she’d wager she’d had more sex than anyone here. As her weekends were her own now, she’d tried the dating scene. She’d gone out with a couple of men, had easily ended up in bed with them. The sex had been nothing like how it had been with Richard. 

“Oh good, there you are.” She placed her hand on her cousin’s arm. He was the older brother of the bride. 

He laughed. “What do you need Anne?” 

She laughed softly. “You know your sister is trying to play matchmaker with me.” 

“Oh yes, I’m guessing you do not like Brian.” He laughed. 

She shook her head. “He’s not a bad guy, but….” 

“You’re telling me that a doctor is not your type?” He laughed. 

Anne threw back her head and laughed. She then glanced around the room for a moment. “That is exactly what I am telling you, Will.” 

He laughed. “And you want my help dodging my sister?” 

“Exactly!” She nodded. 

“Only because you’re my favorite cousin.” He grinned. 

“Thank you.” Anne grinned. She was about to say something else, when she felt someone tap her shoulder. She immediately turned, and her eyes grew wide for just a moment. She could not believe it. Richard was standing in front of her. What in the world was he doing at her cousin’s wedding? Why did he look so damn good in a tux? “Hey you.” She smiled, laughing softly. She could not help but think she was in trouble now. 

\--

“Hey yourself,” he answered, falling easily into their old pattern. He tried to keep calm, tried to keep his excitement in check. But he could hardly believe he’d somehow run into Anne, and at a wedding in Manchester of all places. “What are you doing here?” 

She laughed softly. “I should ask you. The bride is my cousin, if you must know.”

“Oh. Well, I’m here on the other side. With the groom. He works with me.”

Anne’s eyes were full of mischief. “ _With_ you?” 

“All right. He works for me.” He considered playing it cool, but that was so far from how he felt that he abandoned the idea after just a second. “You know, I don’t usually go to weddings. But I came to this one. And here you are.”

The bright smile on her face faded a little. “Here I am.”

“I think it’s called fate. Kismet and all that.”

“I think it’s called coincidence, Richard. It’s not even that far-fetched. I am from here, after all.” 

Anne seemed determined to cut off his attempts to flirt with her, however lame. So he took the direct approach instead. “Do you want to dance?”

“Dance?” She asked. Dancing was, oh that could certainly lead to other intimacies. Did she want to feel his body against hers? Oh yes, she did. The problem was that would lead to her wanting other things. 

“Yes, you know, dance.” He grinned. “You know, what most people do at a wedding.” 

“Yes, I do know that’s what most people do at a wedding, Richard.” 

“C’mon, Anne. Just one dance.” He held his hand out, and with it, all his hope that things might still work out between them. He was not a gambler by nature, but he was all in this time. 

“Okay. Just one dance.” She put her hand in his and when her fingers slid between his, he sighed with relief. 

One dance, that was all this was. _One dance_. She repeated to herself. “So…” She looked up at him. “How have you been?” Small talk, yes small talk would be good. 

He realized she was nervous, and in a way she’d never been before. She was always so direct, so quick to tease, that it was strange to see her so hesitant. He tried to put her at ease. “I’ve been alright. Busy. A lot of travel.”

“Oh, anywhere interesting?” If she could keep things light and keep him from getting too close, she might be able to handle this dance, this evening. 

“Oh, you know the usual places, London, Edinburgh. Actually I was in Stockholm for a week in October,” he replied. He started to run his hand over her back. He hoped it would be soothing, that she would not be as nervous. 

Instead, it made her thoughts run in a totally different direction. She liked the feel of his fingers against her back. She could feel his warmth through the fabric of her dress, and in that moment, all she wanted was to be with him, somewhere far away from here. 

She pulled back a little so she could see his face. “Richard, I don’t want to dance anymore.” 

He was certain she could feel that his breathing had changed. Was she trying to say what he thought she was trying to say? “What do you want to do now, Anne?” he asked. 

“I want to get out of here. Please.” Anne didn’t know what exactly she was asking, but she needed him to understand.

“Out of here to talk? Or out of here to…” He looked into her eyes. He thought he understood what she meant, but he had to know for certain. 

Her eyes were dark with emotion, and instead of answering his question, she brought her hands to his chest and pressed closer to him. “Not to talk. Not just yet.”

“Somehow, I didn’t think you meant to talk,” he said softly. His thoughts were running in circles. He couldn’t possibly take her back to his suite. It was too far, and Cecily was in the other bedroom. No, he was not taking her back to the hotel suite he was sharing with his niece. 

“Are you staying here, Anne? We could go to--”

“No, I’m not, and I don’t think I want to wait till we can get someplace else. I have an idea. Trust me?” She didn’t wait for him to answer before taking his hand and pulling him away from the dance floor. 

She dragged him out the back end of the ballroom. “You’re going to think I’m mad, but there’s a cloak room at the end of the hall. It’s dark and private and--”

He pulled her close and without warning, he kissed her. “I get the idea. Let’s go.” 

She laughed softly, taking his hand and almost running down the hall. “Here it is,” she said, and opened the door. 

They were barely through the door before he took her in his arms and kissed her hard, his mouth pressed against hers like he’d never ever let her go. He pushed her up against the wall and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

She whispered his name and curled her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.” He murmured against her lips. “You have no idea how much.” 

“Oh, some idea,” she laughed gently. His hips were pressed against hers now and she could feel his arousal. It might have surprised her with any other guy, but if Richard felt even half of what she was feeling, it was only surprising it had taken him this long to get turned on. 

He laughed softly. “Yes, you might have an idea right now.” He whispered. “I want…” His hands moved to her chest. How exactly was he supposed to get her out of this dress? He couldn’t even think straight right now. 

“Here, let me help you.” She pushed the straps of her evening gown down her shoulders just far enough to give him what he needed. His mouth went immediately to the newly bare skin. He eased the dress the rest of the way off, letting the fabric pool at her waist as he pulled back to look at her. “God, Anne, your tits are still as…” His voice trailed off as he decided his mouth was good for more than just gaping and talking. 

She moaned softly, her fingers pulling at his hair. “God, I missed this,” she moaned. The way he’d always kissed and caressed her tits, it was like he was worshipping them, worshipping her. It was still that way. 

He left her breasts so he could return to kissing her lips instead. He rimmed her mouth and then slowly slid his tongue in. She moaned and tangled her tongue with his, kissing him rough and hard until they were both out of breath. 

“I want…” She could not finish the thought. She could not say what she wanted for all the jumbled words in her brain. But she knew he understood when his hands went to her sides and slowly began to ease the dress up her thighs. 

“I know what you want.” He said, as he slid the dress up to her waist. “It’s what I want too.” He groaned softly as she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. 

She wrapped her hand around his erection through the fabric of his pants, and it was all he could do to keep from crying out. “I...don’t do that. I don’t know how long I’ll last at this rate.”

“Then we should hurry up.” She murmured, kissing his neck softly. 

“This is going to be the fastest ride of your life,” he joked. The laughter broke the tension just long enough for him to get his pants and boxers off. He pushed her back up against the wall, pinning her there with his arms around her waist. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Now, Richard. Now!” 

Her panties were only a tiny wisp of fabric for him to push aside as he thrust into her. It felt amazing. She was so warm, wrapped all around him, as if she’d been made for him and for him alone. 

He tried to take it slow, but she had other ideas. Anne dug her heels into his back, urging him to go faster, harder. He had no choice but to comply, and soon, he was pounding into her and her hips were slamming against the wall of the cloak room, making the rods and hangers around them creak. 

“Oh God, Richard…” she whispered, conscious that she had to be quiet, even if it was against her natural instincts. She wanted to cry, to shout, to scream. She threw her head back. “Oh yes, yes!”

He felt her climax almost before she did and he pulled her hips roughly into his so he could thrust wildly into her , once, twice and then a last time before he spilled inside her. “Oh God, Anne. You’re just perfect. Perfect.” There were no more words left to say and when his legs finally gave out, he sank down to the floor and pulled her down with him. 

She buried her head against his shoulder, as she fought to calm herself. She’d never felt this emotional before in her life. She took a deep steadying breath when she was able to do so. When she was in his arms she believed anything was possible. It was her heart that was in control now, not her head. 

It took a while for Richard to come back to himself, but when he did, he kissed her gently and smoothed the short bangs off her forehead. “You know, this isn’t the way I planned it. I was going to dance with you, ask you to dinner. I wanted to do everything the right way this time. But dinner and dancing, that’s not really who we are, is it?” 

She laughed shakily. “No, we’re people who fuck in cloak rooms.” 

He laughed softly. “Yeah, we are.” He kissed her forehead again. “You okay?” He asked softly. 

“I don’t know yet,” she said, back to her usual candor. “But I will be. Do you think we could go back to your room or something though? I think a mink just landed on me.”

He laughed softly. “We’ll need to be very quiet.” 

“Why? Small room or something?”

“Suite, which is shared with my niece, who was my date for tonight.” He admitted sheepishly. 

“You brought your niece as your date?” She laughed out loud. “That’s a bit naff. Even for you.” 

“Yeah, well.” Instead of explaining the situation, he decided to just kiss her soundly instead. Soon, she was whimpering and begging for more, and Richard allowed himself just a moment of smug satisfaction at that. 

In a small moment of sanity, Anne pulled back. “We’ve fucked once in a coat closet tonight. Should we really be taking our chances and fucking twice here?” 

“Why not?” he suggested, running a hand along the inside of her thigh. “In for a penny, in for a pound, right?” 

“You’re incorrigible, impossible, and I’d say I’ve been a bad influence on you,” she laughed. 

He laughed and relented. He reached over and helped straighten out her dress. “Let’s go back to this reception and try to be respectable for a few minutes. Then I’ll take you to my suite and we can do whatever you want.”

She laughed softly. “That better be a promise.” 

He wanted to promise her a lot more than just one good night in a hotel room. But that would have to wait until later, he guessed. Meanwhile, he’d have to explain to Cecily why she needed to make herself scarce for the night. 

“Anne, where did you get the dress you’re wearing?” 

She frowned at him, confused. “Why?” 

He helped her to her feet. “Oh, no reason. But just be prepared to answer that question, because you’re going to get asked about it.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “And just who is going to ask me about my dress?”

“My _date_. She happens to be wearing the same exact thing.”

She buried her head against his shoulder as she laughed. “Somehow I imagine hers is the real thing.” 

He could probably buy her a hundred designer dresses if she wanted. But he suspected that was not what Anne needed to hear, and it could wait until later. For now, he’d have to introduce her to Cecily, and without going into too much detail. 

“So, Richard, how are you going to explain me to your date?” 

“Oh, I won’t need to explain. She thinks I’m incredibly lame, so she’ll be thrilled that I’m capable of random cloakroom shags at weddings.” 

She couldn’t help but laugh. “So your niece is just going to be happy Uncle Richard has gotten laid?”

“Something like that. I just need you to help me convince her she needs to be someplace else tonight so we can have a bit of privacy. And you know, not rat me out to her parents for being a horrible uncle and all that.”

“I’m sure we can find a way. After all, there’s a good incentive involved.” She grinned. 

By now, Richard had pulled himself together, and with a little help from Anne, he got his tie and his hair sorted out to the point where he looked almost innocent again. She gave him an approving nod as they headed back out to the ballroom. 

“So what happened with your hair, Anne? I almost didn’t recognize you for a moment.”

She laughed softly. “Maybe that was the idea.” She shook her head. “No, I wanted a change.” She realized then she’d not told him. “I’m not working weekends anymore.”

He almost nodded to admit he already knew that, but just in the nick of time, he remembered that Anne had no idea he’d bought out her contracts. Like many other things, that was probably best revealed later. Much later. Instead, he said simply, “I’m glad to hear that. I didn’t think you wanted to. Not after…”

He left the rest unsaid and she did not add to it. As they approached the ballroom, he spotted Cecily standing in the hallway, talking to a tall man who looked more than a little interested in her. He laughed. “Well, maybe we won’t need to do too much persuading.”

She laughed softly. “So you’re going to let your niece have a wedding hookup, so you can have your own wedding hookup? I _have_ been a bad influence.”

“Ha!” He watched Cecily flirt with the man for a moment. “I’m under no delusion that I have any control over my niece. She does what she wants. I just need to make sure she’s not in a risky situation. But she’s a sensible girl. You know?” 

She nodded. “She’s not in a risky situation. The man she’s talking to is one of my cousins.” She shrugged. “My father had several brothers, so the extended Neville family is a little large.” 

“I know the feeling. My mother is one of eleven children.” When Anne gaped at him a little, he laughed and added, “and you already know about all my siblings. I guess fertility is sort of our thing.” 

“Hmm. Maybe I should make you wear a condom then.” 

He laughed softly. “That’s up to you.” 

“Speaking of which, we’re supposed to be making plans to get out of here, right?”

He chuckled and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. “Let me just text my niece. That should get the ball rolling.”

She laughed. “At least, you’re not going to go up to her and embarrass her.” 

“Honestly? The courtesy is for your cousin. I know how hard it is to play this game.” 

She laughed softly. “See, I would go up and embarrass him.” 

“You are wicked, aren’t you?”

“Hmm. Get me up to that suite and I’ll show you.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” He looked down at his phone. 

There was a single short text from Cecily. “Uncle Dickon is in the game! Good luck.” 

“We’re good to go,” he said to Anne. She raised an eyebrow and took the phone from him.

“‘Uncle Dickon’? That’s what she calls you?” She guffawed loudly and suddenly, Richard wanted to be anywhere but in that hallway. 

“It’s a family name. Don’t laugh.”

“Too late.” She murmured, trying to fight her laughter. 

“All right, but when you’re done laughing at me, come up to the suite. It’s the top floor.”

“Always the best room in the hotel, eh?” 

“Always.”

\--

They tried to be circumspect while waiting for the lift. But once the doors had closed behind them, Richard pulled Anne close, and kissed her deeply. 

“Impatient to have me again?” She laughed very softly. 

“Look up.” 

Anne glanced towards the ceiling and laughed even more when she saw the mistletoe. “Tis the season,” she murmured before kissing him deeply. 

“I’m wondering if I should just hit the stop button.” He murmured the words against her throat. 

Anne pulled at his hair, to get him to look up at her. “Lifts always have cameras, so if you want a video of us fucking in a hotel lift...” 

“Good point.” He laughed softly. “Besides, a bed does sound very good.” 

“Doesn’t it?” Anne smiled.

\--

They lay in bed later, in the warm afterglow of sex, their limbs still shaking from their climax. His fingers trailed absently over her bare arms. “That was amazing. _You_ are amazing.” 

“Not to disappoint you, mate, but it’s this bed that’s amazing.” She fingered the luxurious duvet and sighed in contentment. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“Well, you know me. Only the best linens.”

Anne laughed. “You know, when we first met in that coffee shop? I thought you were so serious that our time together was going to be a total bore.”

“And?” 

“And you are very serious. And a bit boring. But you know what to do with your hands and your tongue, I’ll give you that.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I’m sorry I’m so boring, but I’m glad my other talents are useful.” He ran a hand over her shoulders and down her spine, finally resting his palm on her behind. 

She snuggled closer and whispered hotly against his chest. “Ready for round three?” 

He laughed softly. “Are you ready for round three?” 

She looked up at him. “Do you even have to ask?” 

He rolled over, pinning her to the bed. “It’s the polite thing to do.” He murmured before kissing her deeply. His hands wandered over her body, as always paying special attention to her breasts. 

She pushed at his shoulders, and he rolled onto his back. She straddled him. “I know something we haven’t done.” She said as she leaned down to kiss his chest. 

He groaned softly, his hands coming up to cup her breasts. “What?” 

She smirked. “Trust me when I say it’s something you like.” 

He groaned as she kissed down his chest, and he realized what she had in mind. “I do believe you’re right.” 

She looked up at him and grinned, as her hand closed around his erection. “I know I am.” 

He closed his eyes, his hips arching up. When she took him into her mouth, he felt as if he were absolute putty in her hands. She talked about his talents with his hands and mouth. He wondered if she knew exactly how talented she was? 

“Anne….” He groaned. He wanted to pull her up, to tell her how much he just wanted to be inside her, but before he could put the thought into action, he felt his climax. “God! Anne!” he cried out. 

\--

Hours later, Richard slid out of bed, his legs like rubber from all the night’s activity. It was already morning, and he was feeling just a bit guilty over leaving Cecily to her own devices. 

She had not quietly into the night, of course. She’d sent him ten text messages, all variations on the most popular euphemisms for sex. 

“Texts from your niece, I suppose?” Anne murmured sleepily. “Tell me, was she giving Uncle Dickon pointers?” She could not help but laugh once she’d said it. “It’s funny when you really think about it. Did Uncle Dickon get his dick on? Get it?” She laughed out loud at her own joke, and Richard rolled his eyes and groaned. 

“I should introduce you to Cecily properly, but I’m worried you’ll enjoy making fun of me too much.” He bent down and kissed her. “But listen. I’m going to check on her and maybe give her a parental lecture or something.

“Why don’t you order us some breakfast from room service? Whatever you like.” He pulled on his clothes and as he put his shirt back on, he gave her a serious look. “And when I get back--”

“Round five?” 

He laughed. “No, Anne. We’re going to talk. We need to talk.” 

\--  
Once Richard had left, she found the room service menu, and tried to decide what to order for breakfast. She ordered a complete English breakfast and fruit. They needed to talk. She knew that was true, no matter how much she wished it was not. 

She went into the bathroom, and laughed to herself, she couldn’t help but think it was almost as nice as Richard’s own bathroom. She slipped on a robe, and finger combed her hair to make herself a little more presentable. 

She wondered if maybe her horrible forays into the dating field had been a sign. Clearly she and Richard were good together, and actually in bed, they were great together. She genuinely did like him, and there were times it surprised her how much she did like him. And she still loved him. 

She closed her eyes and sat down on the sofa. She loved him. But had anything really changed? Was it possible for them to actually be together? At the moment, it was certainly her heart which was speaking louder than her head. And her heart certainly hoped they could be together. 

\--

Richard let himself back into the suite, still laughing from his encounter with Cecily. He’d tried to be serious with her, but all she’d wanted to know was how and why he’d hooked up with a random woman at a wedding. He’d promised to explain later, because he’d wanted to hurry back to Anne. 

He called out to her, but she wasn’t in the sitting room or bedroom. On a hunch, he tried the bathroom and was not surprised to find her soaking in a tub full of soapy lather. 

“Good bath?” 

“Yes, amazing. You want to join me?” She splashed water at him gently. 

“No, but stay where you are. We can still talk, right?” 

“Richard--”

“Listen, I know talking is not what you do best. But I want to make sure we’re on the same page. I don’t want to go home wondering if this was just a one-night thing, or if there’s more here.” 

He put a hand to the bridge of his nose and sighed and tried to gather his thoughts. “We agreed before, you remember? That if we met again, we’d try this out for real? Try to date and be together like a real couple? I still want that.”

Richard raised an eyebrow at her, inviting her to answer. For a long time, she just lay in the tub moving the suds back and forth and not meeting his eyes. Finally, she sighed and began to reveal her mind. 

“I remember, Richard. We said we’d try. And it’s not that I don’t want to.

“I’m in love with you. You already know that. But I’m not sure there’s a future for us.” She pulled herself out of the bathtub and wrapped herself quickly in the towel he held out to her. “We’re from different places. I don’t normally stay in the best room in a hotel.” 

She laughed. “The sofa in my mate’s flat is more my speed. I’m a working class girl and I think I wouldn’t fit into your world too well.” 

“Nonsense. That’s not true. Besides, you don’t get to decide that anyway. You have to let this play out.”

She hissed, a little annoyed at how hard-headed and stubborn he was being. “And what about the other thing? I used to be an escort, Richard. You know this!”

“So? I don’t care about that.” 

“You don’t care that I’ve had a lot of sex? With a lot of different men?” She scoffed. “And what if you ran into one of my clients somewhere? How would you react? Could you see past it?” 

“Stop it. You’re just making excuses.” He gripped her shoulders and waited as she struggled a little before slumping against his chest. “I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care how many men you slept with before me, as long as it’s just me from now on.

“I love you, Anne. I want to be with you. I think you want to be with me.” He kissed her forehead and then tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “I’m a businessman and I know from experience that there’s no big payday without a big risk.”

“So I’m just supposed to walk off a cliff with you then? For the thrill?” 

“Yes. Absolutely.” 

\--  
They were sitting at the table in the sitting room area, the breakfast was in front of them. Anne picked at a bowl of fruit. Her thoughts were still in turmoil. Part of her wanted to take that leap with Richard, to trust it would work, to be with him. Another part of her wondered how she would stand it if she was right, if there was little chance of a relationship with him working. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. 

“The truth is, I am afraid.” She said softly. It was one of the hardest admissions of her life. 

He reached his hand across the table and gently took her hand. “What are you afraid of?” He said softly. 

She was quiet for a moment. “Afraid of it working, afraid of it not working.” She said softly. “It’s odd, isn’t it?”

He smiled a bit. “Not really. Life is full of chances, but you’ve always been the type to plan everything, to try to control everything, haven’t you?”

“You’re right.” She said softly, although she imagined he already knew that. “I’ve tried to plan everything, and all those plans…” She shook her head. “It seems that once I met you, the plans almost blew up in my face.” 

He gently rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “I think usually the best things in our lives are unplanned.” 

She laughed just a bit. “I’ve listened to my head, and you’ve heard what it says. My heart though…” She closed her eyes, not able to go on. 

“What does your heart say, sweetheart?” The endearment slipped out without thought. 

“To take the chance, to jump off the cliff with you.” She said softly. After a moment, she took a deep breath. “And that’s what I am going to do.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” He squeezed her hand and then brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips very gently. 

“So what now?” 

“We start over. When we get back home, I’ll take you out. Dinner, whatever. A proper date.” He smirked a little. “You know, this turned out almost exactly like Pretty Woman.” 

She laughed. “Don’t let it go to your head, mate.”

“My head’s not really where this is going, Anne.” With that, he leaned over and kissed her until she begged to be taken back to bed. 

\--

And they lived happily ever after. 

Or did they? 

To be continued….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this is the end of this story, a sequel is definitely a huge possibility. 
> 
> Roh and I wrote this chapter together, and we hope you have enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a joint work between roh and I, and we will be alternating chapters as we write. Hope you all enjoy this one!


End file.
